


The Other Woman

by CapitanAlpaca



Category: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Aranea Highwind is the best cousin You're welcome, Befriending the FFXV boyband, Cousins are what Siblings would be if they were Cool all the time, Eventual Smut, F/M, Just an outlet for smut and angst, Kind of a slow burn, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Reader-Insert, Some Luna/Noctis, alternative history, and his best friend, angsty, oh look it's getting funnier, uh oh spaghetti o's it's our old pal, written pre-release
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:10:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5960284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapitanAlpaca/pseuds/CapitanAlpaca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>Noctis Lucis Caelum/Reader</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>You had done exactly what you were told. <i>You were a good girl.</i> So, how'd it get to be that you were the other woman?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of all the hands you had to kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Transferred from Luna and GOTVG account under the name (Capitan Alpaca and queen stark, respectively) and I will keep the updates up to the same level (possibly faster! since this isn't a moderated site) as those. Hope you like it! I messed with a bit of the FFXV lore but, it's nothing too hindering—that and I have really no idea what's in the game yet. I mean, we don't even have the release date ;^;
> 
> Alright. I'm done ranting! Bye.

_**Tick, tock, tick, tock.** _

Silver clinked against porcelain and a sigh mingled in the silence. Your eyes danced across the food laid in front of you, cooked and prepared to perfection and yet, you held no appetite for any of it. No doubt, the staff had prepared you your favorite foods—they weren't naive. They gossiped about you, snickered at you, and worse pitied your sad existence.

_**Tick, tock.** _

Your father had always told you were a pretty thing, a young pretty thing and one day you'd be wed to a man that truly loved you. He would lavish you with gifts and kisses and tell you that there wasn't anyone in the world that could take your place. You used to gush as a small girl, twirl in your dresses and ask him again and again about how much he loved your mother. They were perfect when you were small—your mother and father. To you, there was nothing more beautiful than the love they harbored for one another. He'd tell you anecdotes of their younger days and you would laugh, giddy with excitement. Falling in love sounded divine. All your life you'd been filled with hopelessly romantic notions that one day you'd meet a handsome suitor and he'd cherish you until you died.

Your cousin, Aranea Highwind, held less glittering ideas in her eyes. She'd been the one to cause trouble for your mother and father. The fair-haired girl had been taken in by your parents and yet, all she wanted to do was pick fights with boys. You often cheered her on and she would smirk at your support. _You were a good girl_ , she thought. Aranea had run away from your home and joined the military, to the displeasure of your parents, of course but, she told you that she'd always be there for you. 

And she had been. 

It was no surprise that when you had been introduced into court, you were a breath of fresh air—the epitome of sweetness and innocence. A cherub faced girl with the sweetest laugh, the brightest smile and the most tender of hearts. Your cousin, ever the brash one, had broken a few fingers when they traced along your unmarried flesh for too long. You would scold her but, you were never mad for too long—she was your sister figure, one way or another, and she there was naught you could say about her protective attitude towards you. Her interests remained out on the battlefield and you couldn't blame her, she had told you many exciting tales of her time in the military. 

You were so cute, she would tell you. The way your eyes lit up at the sound of an adventurous tale. It seemed your childlike actions would never end. Your smiles would never cease. She cursed any man that tried to break your heart.

When you had first seen the Lucis heir, you were immediately enamored. It wasn't like you were the first noble lady to look upon his face and decide that you were in love. Aranea snorted when you'd come to her and whispered in her ear about the sharply dressed man. She tugged at her own dress and swirled her glass of dark red wine, before saying, "He's already engaged, kitten."

You pursed your lips at the sound of her nickname she'd bestowed on you when you were barely eight. She'd thought you looked like a little clumsy kitten when you tried to be angry. It amused her when you pouted. "To whom?"

Her eyes slid over to a woman, clad in a gown of silver and white. Her blonde hair shined in the lights, practically a halo on her crown as she mingled with many lords and ladies. Her features were elegantly sculpted and the way she held herself was as if she commanded the air around her. You stood straighter and suddenly felt subpar and self-conscious about your own appearance. Aranea snickered into her glass. 

You looked back at the Prince of Lucis and found that his gaze was trained onto the stunning woman—you could hardly blame him. Aranea scoffed and donned a falsely pretentious accent, "Lady Lunafreya nox Fleuret, Oracle and Princess of Tenebrae."

Your eyes bulged and you choked a bit, "That's the Princess?!" Your cousin rolled her eyes at your shock.

"Louder, I don't think all the citizens in Altissia heard you," she said through her teeth as some eyes landed on you two. She'd rather not have her superiors breathing down her neck at such an event. 

You collected yourself and then you lowered your voice into a shaky whisper, "But, that would mean... _that's_ Prince Noctis, right?"

"You seemed unimpressed," she was more amused at your flushed expression. You had said such adorable things about the man prior to finding out his name, too. 

Your hands went to your reddened cheeks and you shook your head back and forth, completely appalled about what you had said about the Prince. You were no princess! You certainly weren't predestined by the divine to marry someone like the heir to Lucis! You excused yourself to go and get fresh air, completely shameful. That cousin of yours simply informed you that she'd be refilling her glass should you have a sudden need for her. 

The gardens of this estate were lavishly taken care of, you tried to take your mind off of your previous embarrassment. It wasn't a little known fact that Prince Noctis was to be wed to the Niflheim oracle—they'd been said to be childhood friends, too. You were told, before entering the court, that their wedding would unite Tenebrae and Lucis and usher in a peaceful era. It would be the wedding of the millennium, and you had even hoped for an invitation! It was absolutely out of the question to have said that the Prince of Lucis had _an awfully cute butt_ to your cousin! She laughed because she knew! And she certainly shouldn't have mocked the beloved princess like that, she was sworn to protect the throne of Lucis not mock it openly. Then again, Aranea had always been a rebel.

You fanned yourself again, releasing a shaky breath. At least the Accordo nobleman whom was hosting this party had left his gardens to guest use. You were grateful. 

"Are you alright?"

You feared the fates were out for blood when you had seen just exactly who'd made their way outside. You gulped and nervously stuttered in their presence, "U-uh, I—Lady Fleuret! I'm so sorry for my outburst early! I had n-no idea you were attending—I'm embarrassed." Your head was low and you bowed, curtsied and fidgeted in rapid succession. A small smile graced her lips and it was no wonder the people of Niflheim were so enamored by her. You'd never been so close to royalty before and your heart was beating a mile a minute. Her hand on yours did nothing to quell the anxiety within you either.

"You can relax, Lady [Last Name]," and suddenly you were feeling a bit better. You smiled.

"Y-you know my name?"

"Certainly, I have had to learn the noble houses of Lucis, you know."

"I-I wouldn't think of my own name as of much importance. M-My family—"

She spoke, firm but, somehow gently, "Your family has always been key to the success of Lucis and your family's adept skills in airship design are of vital importance. I hardly believe you could say your family was of no importance."

The words flattered you and you swelled with pride. It had been true. Your family was tasked and had been tasked with the design and manufacturing of many of the warships, and other battle vehicles in Lucis. It was what your family owed their fortune and prestige. You had never been one to say that you were elite—you actually pictures yourself as a lower family to the rest. It wasn't like your family had special powers or divine connections, you were simply a house made on the industrial success of your great-great-great-grandfather. "Thank you, Lady Fleuret."

She released your hands and you felt a bit better, still nervous but, a thousand times better. "I'm quite tired of listening to old men drone on about boring topics, aren't you?"

"To be truthful, I came out here to hide my embarrassment," you laughed a little. She went to the banister overlooking the gardens and you joined her. 

"I hear you're quite new to court, hm?"

It was surprising that she held even an inkling of interest for you but, she was more than just a princess you now knew. She was to be Queen of Lucis. She was the Oracle to prevent the darkness from swallowing up the stars. She was amazing to be near. You felt so insignificant and yet, she did not talk down to you. 

"I am. My birthday was a few months ago. I did not recognize you or the Prince as a result. I am still so sorry. My father never really allowed me to watch—"

"It's alright, Lady [Last Name], I am not mad. It's quite nice to not be recognized."

You couldn't help but feel your anxiety melt away as she continued to converse with you. "I still feel a bit embarrassed that I had not know you were attending."

"There is no need to feel embarrassed. I've forgotten my fair share of attendees when I had attended my first parties," her words brought a bit of comfort. "I enjoy my share of gossip, despite what they may be said about my person, you know?" Her eyes sparkled in the starlight with a playful lightness you sometimes say in your cousin. You felt like you could say just about anything to the Lady Luna and you weren't sure why. She gave you a smile, too, and said, "Indulge me, Lady [Last Name], I've not had a conversation about men that didn't involve war in some time."

You weren't able to say anything about Prince Noctis, you knew that much! She'd probably hate you—not that she seemed the type to harbor petty grudges but, you wouldn't hate her if she did. That man was gorgeous. "Well, I...I did enjoy Lord Scientia insight on the crystal's origins. He was very...er, informative." You had sat in conversation with Ignis Scientia for an hour as he practically lectured you on the history, mythology and overall importance of your native country's most prized possession. You weren't dumb, you learned all of this in lessons. He was just so indepth you thought you might had fallen asleep had he not continued to ask for your feedback. 

This apparently made her smile into her hand, "That sounds like him. He's a very intelligent man. Any woman should be proud of that."

You don't know why you had to ask but, before you could stop the words from falling past your lips, they'd already spilled, "What about the Prince?"

Her blue, almost purple eyes widened at the question. You could see the red blush creep up her neck but, she was much more composed than you were and she responded curtly, "Prince Noctis and I have known each other for many years. I'm afraid, we aren't the same children we once were."

"Is...is that bad?"

Her eyes met yours and a smile crossed her painted lips, "No." She seemed pensive and smiled wider, "No, it's not. He's much less nervous. Prince Noctis is a man I am proud to be able to marry...especially since it will bring our nations much needed peace." She had added the last part and so that you figured it was a politically charged union. Though, you could tell by the way her eyes lit up, that she loved him. It made your hopelessly romantic heart flutter. 

"And what are you two ladies gossiping about?" You both turned at the sound. Unlike Lady Luna, you had nearly frozen up entirely while her face lit up like a festive holiday display. Your cheeks burned red when he slid his dark eyes over your form. He lingered a moment on you but, ultimately his gaze returned to the woman beside you. It made your heart sink a bit but, your brain told you not to worry—you never stood a chance.

"Luna, I've been meaning to talk to you alone all night," his voice hinted at something more than he let on. It flew past your young and innocent head and you were about to excuse yourself when—

"Noctis, this is Lady [Last Name]," she introduced you. You curtsied but, your voice was lost.

He bowed in respect but, was otherwise disinterested in your person. Regardless of his body language, his tone was cool and charming, "Your father and I have talked before. He is an interesting man. It's a pleasure to meet his daughter."

He took your hand and placed a chaste kiss upon your knuckles. His eyes slid back to Luna and you couldn't help but help the clenching and unclenching of your fist beneath was your other hand. A prince had kissed your hand and you were conversing with the power couple of the millennium, you were dreaming. 

"Luna..." He sidled up close to his fiancé and you could see his hand slide down her back, and you couldn't help but envy the woman. You stood an unwanted company but, you could not move your feet.

"We were just talking about you," she moved away, out of his touch and their eyes met. An unspoken conversation lingered between them—one you were oblivious to what it could possibly be about. As young and naive as you were, you had yet to come to understand the flirtations of men and women. It was all untouched and unknown to you. Aranea often teased you about it, too. 

"What of? Nothing too harsh?" The subtext in his words was lost on you and you smiled brightly. 

"Quite the opposite, Prince Noctis," you said. He looked over to you and cast you a grin, the likes of which should have your knees buckling and your heart exploding. 

"Oh, really? Am I allowed to know?"

"Absolutely not!" Luna interjected with a teasing lilt to her tone. Again their eyes met and you could at least sense the chemistry. It was not lost on you that they were in love. To you, it was like a fairytale—the strong heroine and the dashing prince falling in love despite the political origins of their engagement. It was too much to bear. "It would go straight to your head."

Knowing he would not get much out of Luna, he turned to you, a falsely innocent smile on his lips again. He went for you hand and you gladly let him hold it. He placed his other one on top, surrounding the appendage in his warmth, your heart raced and red dusted your cheeks again. 

His cobalt eyes bore into your own eyes and you felt like the only thing tethering you to this planet was his hands. He spoke with such a sweetness, it would have made any girl faint but, you were steady in the presence of his fiancé. "How about you, Lady [Last Name]? Will you tell me?"

"I-I," You looked to Lady Fleuret for help and she playfully tapped his arm with the back of her hand. 

"Leave her alone, Noct. She's embarrassed," she defended you and gave you a smile. You heard the Prince apologize and laugh, something unexpected of him, you thought. He seemed so brooding from afar and now, he was a completely different person. It only made you even more jealous of the blonde haired woman. "I'm sorry, Lady [Last Name], he's teasing you."

"I'm probably as red as an Imperial cloak..." You have a nervous little laugh. The Prince gave Luna another dangerous look and Luna sighed. She gave you a warm and apologetic smile before saying, "I'm sorry, would you mind my leaving? I fear the prince needs to speak with me in private."

"Oh-oh! No, of course, it was a pleasure just talking. I hope we can speak again!" You curtsied too many times and gave the best grin wishing them every blessing of the gods. The engaged couple left and your innocent, love-loving heart fluttered. They were perfect together. You hoped you would get a wedding invitation soon. You sighed as they disappeared back into the party, leaving you on the moonlit balcony to dream of your own prince.

_**Tick, tock, tick, tock.** _

"Would you like us to prepare a fresh bowl of soup for you, Your Grace?"

You gave the weakest of smiles to the poor servant at your side. Her eyes looked upon you with pity and you hated that no one even tried to hide it. No on tried to play dumb—you wished they would. You wished you had never known and lived in blissful ignorance. 

A gold band, heavy on your finger, stared mockingly back at you. It was so plain. You were so plain to him. He'd probably given her his ring—the ring meant for his true love. You could cry at the thought but, you not been able to shed a tear for a whole month. 

When you were ten, pretending that you were married to your knight in shining armor, you pictured your life to be full of laughter and joy. Your marriage had been miserable since it had been proposed. The wedding had been forced and you swore you hadn't cried as hard as the night of your wedding. 

You wanted to run away but, you couldn't. You wanted your cousin but, she was off fighting a war that never should have happened. You wanted to find solace in a man you loved but, he was finding his in the arms of another. He was the one defiling your marriage. He was the one who'd not even touched you on your wedding night, unable to stomach the thought of anyone but her. You were the wife, not the mistress. So, why'd you feel like the other woman?


	2. Close your eyes and think of Lucis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ey, ey, ey, if you made it to chapter 2. What's up? How's it going? How u doing? ;D

_"Daddy, daddy, tell me again! Again!" Your sweet face peered up at him, rosy cheeks and missing teeth. Your frilly dress skirts pooled around you as you sat with your eyes full of wonder at your father's desk. He balanced a pen between his mouth as he looked over some document _you just couldn't be bothered with at this age_. His eyes met yours from behind his large desk. He watched you clutch your favorite chocobo plush doll to your chest. You'd abandoned your artwork next to you, wanting to gain inspiration from your father's tales. "Tell me about when you married Mommy!"_

_He chuckled, amused at your curiosity. You wouldn't have registered it back then—the sadness that rippled through his irises. You wouldn't have noticed the small hesitation in his words before he began the anecdote._

_No, for you—the girl with flowers in her hair and stars in her eyes—he spoke the gospel truth. Each word of tender love and admiration that spilled from his lips, you'd soaked it into your being. Taken in all the pretty words that he'd strung together so that you could have a vivid picture of how wonderful your mother had looked on her big day. You'd fall onto your back, and wiggle your chocobo in front of you before exclaiming how you _couldn't wait to be married!__

_A small laugh from your father had you asking for more. You'd never be satisfied; you needed to hear more about love. You loved _love_. Everyone in your home knew it, too. You'd been very fond of most of the servants in your home and especially the older gentleman who would drive your family around. His hair was salt-and-pepper, his eyes were a kind green and you'd remembered how you liked the crinkles near the corners of his eyes. His mustache covered his mouth and he would always give you chocolates on your birthday. When your cousin was stuck in etiquette lessons—before you were old enough to be bothered with such problems—you'd be free to do what you pleased. And you wanted to listen to music, dance, play, sing songs in the gardens and daydream._

_A favorite pastime you had enjoyed was bothering the family driver to dance with you; he'd always said yes, too. _"Mr. Driver! Mr. Driver! Dance with me!" You'd beg the old man when you were small and still wore ribbons in your hair._ He'd taught you how to waltz before you had taken formal lessons and although you mostly stepped on top of his shiny leather shoes, he never complained. After every lesson, your driver would procure a chocolate from his pocket and you'd eat it on the spot. He would gently pat the top of your head and you would smile wide. The day he had died, you refused to even get out of bed. You'd not waltzed since._

_When you were fifteen, you had found yourself at your mother's side, basking in the sun outside. You'd been drinking tea and enjoying the wonderful weather outside—Aranea had already run away by then—and it had been fairly quiet. Your features had already started to lose some of their childish form and you'd no longer had time to sit at the foot of your father's desk and doodle made-up animals._

_"Mother, did I ever do anything funny as a little kid?"_

_Her eyes were closed, listening but not looking at you. She stirred and hummed, "Of course, darling."_

_"Like what?"_

_"Well, you were always running around parties asking the other lords and ladies to dance with you. It quite often interrupted conversations of the most serious nature—to have a small six-year old tugging on your dress asking if you'd ever been in love—it was very cute," she smiled and looked as though she recalled a few of those moments._

_Ever curious, you pressed, "Can you remember a time?"_

_Her eyes slid open and she let out a sigh of contemplation. Her eyes widened when she laughed in realization, "Oh! There had been this one instance when your father had been talking to a very important public figure and in strolled this little girl from the gardens with a cyclamen in her hand and the desire to dance! You saw your father and you'd marched over to him and asked—rather, demanded he dance with you that very instant!"_

_Smiling sadly at the mental image, you asked, "Did he?" It was before the death of your favorite driver, you knew._

_"Well, he had asked you to go play but, you—you were a very adamant little girl when you wanted to dance, sweetie—had no problem asking the man he was speaking with to dance," she smiled a bit wider when she continued. "You thrust the white flower his direction and flashed a smile and asked if he wanted to dance."_

_"Did he say yes?"_

_Her eyes closed again, her head leaned on the back of her chair as she chuckled, "Why, he did! In fact, he danced with you until you were done dancing—which was about two waltzes since Aranea was still around, then. She had taken you back out of the party; your father was grateful. I don't think I've ever seen your father more embarrassed."_

_"Oh...well, why was father so embarrassed?"_

_"The man you danced with was King Regis, love," she smirked at your reddened cheeks._

_"How didn't you ever tell me that!?"_

_"You never asked!" She defended, half-heartedly. "Don't worry too much, love, he thought it was charming. I, personally, think it helped your father."_

_"It doesn't make it any less horrific," you pressed your hands to your cheeks. "At least, I can say I had enough courage to give the King a flower, though."_

_The smirk on her lips returned, "Did you know that cyclamen are poisonous?" A frown befell her and she sighed, "I miss your dancing."_

_"I'll dance on my wedding day, mother."_

_"You'd better."_

**xxxx**

When the maidservants came to help you undress for the night, they never looked you in the eyes or conversed. It was not their position but, something told you if you had been a happier woman, a different woman, they'd have been more inclined to get to know you. You'd not exactly been the most welcomed guest despite your newly acquired title. It wasn't news to you that you had not won the popularity of anyone but the Royal Council. Your family's blood was blue enough, your family's wealth was more than plentiful, you were eligible, young, innocent and pretty enough—you were the best replacement the country could find. It was just that, though. You were merely a placeholder. A obligatory marriage in order to make the face of Lucian government more appealing to its citizens. 

_Innocent, harmless, delicate._

The castle was a terribly lonely place, you'd come to find out. The first time you'd visited it seemed like a dream. You couldn't understand why you—of all people—would have any business in the castle other than a party. You wished it had been that case. Instead, you were dolled up, thrust before the imposing Lucian Royal Council and judged mercilessly. 

They'd thrown out the pros and cons of your being like you were not even present. Some had commented on your appealing looks, while others had spoken of your body like it was some object solely made for producing heirs—and that was that. You'd been brought there before those men to be determined a fit replacement for Lunafreya nox Fleuret. 

It was a fresh wound in the country. The Imperials had advanced and the loyalty of Tenebrae could no longer be trusted. It was not in Lucis's best interests to join the two nations when they would be at war. (Your father had not told you much on why the council had suddenly broken such an important engagement. It was of little importance to a little lady.) It was confusing and you didn't want to have an arranged marriage. 

Your mother scolded you and told you that any woman in your position would be happy. She would have killed for an opportunity like you had been handed. Then it dawned on you. It had hit you like a train colliding into the station. All your life you'd been filled with stories of love and its grandeur but, your father didn't know any of that. He had married your mother because she was eligible, young and pretty. Your mother married your father because he was wealthy, secure and had power. They'd married each other out of convenience, not love. They had filled your childish mind with stories and, that's all they were—stories. 

In Lucis, news of the treaty's falling out had the citizens in unrest. It was of great importance that the Royal Council provide distraction to the avert any riots from erupting in the general population. Your wedding day had approached faster than you imagined. At first, the announcement of your sudden engagement to Prince Noctis was negatively received by public eye. 

And so your _Love Story_ was devised and brought to light. 

Who wouldn't have gladly eaten up the gut-wrenching tale of a Prince scorned by his childhood sweetheart only to be put back together by the sweet, kind Lady [Name] [Last Name], who'd captured his eye the minute they met. How she'd mended the wounds in his heart? How he had found that he could love again? How all the Lucis heir needed to do was marry a Lucian girl to truly be happy? What mindless citizen would buy into that fabricated, sensational love story? They'd ate up the propaganda that Tenebrae could no longer be trusted and thus, Princess Lunafreya could not be trusted. Your image replaced her's in articles, broadcasts and social media and the people were quick to accept the sweet innocent face of a trustworthy Lucian noble. 

It had sickened you to your very core. All your life you'd idealized the idea of love and it was being used as a tool to control the people. It disgusted you but, what could you do? You were a _good girl._

**xxxx**

When you woke up to the sun shining, the birds chirping and the bustling of footsteps outside you room, you knew the world was in a much brighter mood than you. It didn't stop for you—there were no rain clouds or gloomy omens for the day that you were to be wed to Noctis Lucis Caelum, the Crown Prince of Lucis. You were thrown into a bath,your body scrubbed and waxed, your hair brushed and dried and done up, and your face dusted in makeup. They'd zipped and buttoned the dress on you, the dark fabric glared at you in the mirror. Black to symbolize the bride's devotion until death. White was reserved for funerals, for the goddess Etro had given the gift of death to mortals—death was said to be a blessing in Lucis. 

The very thought ripped the grin off your painted lips, the nude sheen of gloss felt foreign and heavy on them. You felt itchy in the black satin and lace dress, and you wanted to cry. They would not be of joy; you wanted to weep over your broken heart. You'd be marrying a man who didn't love you. He'd been so nasty and cold to you in front of his father. He'd said such awful things to you as if you had been the reason behind all of his troubles. He'd called you terrible names. He'd laughed at your silly romantic notions. 

"Lady [Last Name], your father is here," the soft-spoken handmaiden had informed you. He was, by tradition, there to guide you to the sanctuary. It would be your last walk together before you'd give up your family name. When you placed the veil over your eyes, and met him outside of your room, you'd seen the way he looked at you. The father, who'd filled you with those love stories, looked like the proudest person. You could cry at that. 

The walk through the halls, and down to the sanctuary where'd you'd be wed, had not been silent. The sound of your father's voice did little for your frazzled nerves, "You look like a Princess."

"I don't want to be the Princess, father..." You head hung and he placed his hand on the one that gripped his arm. "I don't want to marry—"

"Shush, my child, be happy. This is a blessing, you'll see," he consoled you. You lifted your head but, the frown on your lips didn't disappear. 

"Why?"

Your footsteps resonated in the empty halls. Everyone had cleared out into the sanctuary. Security had never been tighter for this wedding yet, you wouldn't have minded if an assassin had tried for your life. There wouldn't be much of a struggle fighting for it on your end. 

He thought for a moment before decidedly telling you, "Every person has a part to play on the stage of war. I have a part. The King and Prince have parts. The Imperials have a part and you have a part. This is what you _must_ do, my child."

You saw the tall, impressive doors that sealed the sanctuary. Your body tensed and you clung closer to your father's arm. He turned to place a chaste kiss on the crown of your head, "I know you don't understand, yet. One day, I pray you will."

"Please don't make me go in there," you sounded like a child scared to enter a dark room without your parent. "Please..."

The doors had opened before he could answer and your life as [Name] [Last Name] was over. 

Thousands of eyes bore into your soul, judging you, watching you, _hating_ you. It had been your funeral march and you were the only sad one in the room. When the sage began the ceremony, you didn't dare look at anyone but the statue of goddess of death that stared down upon mankind. There was no smile upon her stone features and her hands were not outstretched but, instead held a sword and staff. You hadn't taken your eyes off the impressive statue until you were to speak your vows.

The sage took your hand and you let it sit in the air, struggling to hide the tremors in your appendage. A gold band was placed on your finger before you knew it and the weight of your burdens intensified. The sage presented you with the ring for Noctis and he'd guided you to the Prince's hand. Your fingers trembled with the cold metal and you had managed not to curse out loud when you missed your target. 

Noctis fought back his own curses when he finally grabbed your shaking wrist to steady it with his free hand. You'd gasped at the temperature of his skin; it seemed to burn at your own flesh. Both of your hands were wrapped in red silk, and you spoke your vows.

Noctis had said his vows with no conviction and you'd said yours just as empty. They were empty promises and you knew he would never feel the need to love you as long as his heart beat for Lunafreya's. The sage unraveled your limbs. Your husband refused to look you in the face when the sage had motioned for him to finally seal your marriage. The dark-haired Prince turned to face you and you mirrored his actions. 

The cobalt in his eyes bore holes into your veil. With as strength as you could muster, you managed to raise your eyes to his chin. His jaw was so sharp you bet you'd cut yourself on it. The dark veil was pulled over your head and you'd made the mistake of, instinctively, snapping your eyes up to his. 

Swirls of emotions rocked waves under the darkened blues, and you could see his jaw tightened in his temples. His eyes closed before he a breath escaped him and you held yours, as he descended upon you. 

You'd never been kissed before. _Not like that._ You had foolishly let yourself believe that he meant something by the action. The softness of his lips, the hot breath that passed over your glossed ones and, the intoxicating scent that filled your nostrils made you drunk. You'd let your lips fall open in a small gasp and the puff of air that left him tickled the tip of your tongue. He'd retracted back before you could kiss him back, his expression unmoved by your flushed face. 

When he turned back to the front, the sage finished the ceremony with his finally blessing, you had not moved much from the kiss. He'd kissed you in ways you'd never been kissed before and you were angry. Jealous. Sad.

You'd let a tear fall from your eye but, the audience—the wedding guests—had clapped at the bride brought to tearful joy. It was all his part to play, you thought. He was putting on a show for the world. 

He'd held your hand with the lightest of touches as if touching your skin would burn him. It was a long ceremony and you'd only been able to force the wilting smile for the cameras that had flashed in your face upon leaving the sanctuary.

You were just a distraction for the citizens to enjoy while Lucis went to war. Even your cousin had not been able to attend the wedding. Not that you minded, seeing her saddened expression at your clear unhappiness would have broken your fragile mask.

The celebration had been hours too long. 

A dance. A waltz. His hand, hovering over your back, and yours clutching too tightly on his shoulder. Your others were barely touching. You cried more as you remembered how happy you thought you'd be when you were to dance again. Instead, you wanted to sulk away and scream. You'd danced once and he didn't look at you; he looked in the crowd. You knew he was searching for the woman he could not have. You knew that he was pretending to be anywhere but at your side.Every turn and step was torture and when it ended you couldn't have separated quick enough.

By the end of the night, he'd drunk too much wine and had fallen asleep on the far end of your martial bed. You'd silently sobbed into your new pillows and down comforter.

Your mother's words that she had given you before you left replayed in your head like a mockingbird:

_"Just close your eyes and think of Lucis."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the next chapter is happy. I'm so sick of writing angsty exposition-y bits ;^;  
> Also, IF U FOLLOW ME ON TUMBLR! I CHANGED MY URL!   
> It's **aranea-hi-ghwind** now!


	3. just like the spice girls said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, HOLY FUCKING SHIT GUYS UNCOVERED MADE ME WEEP SO MANY TEARS AND I CANT BELIEVE IT HAPPENED AND WE ARE GETTING THE GAME AND THAT EVERYTHING IS SO REAL AND ABASKFKAHAFAKDLDN "STAND BY ME" HOLY SHIT IM NOT OKAY IM GONNA DIE HOLD ME FREAK OUT WITH ME PLEASE
> 
> Secondly, thanks to everyone that reviewed and read the story!!!! I'm sorry I kept everyone waiting so long! I want to write the next chapter faster so that you all aren't waiting THAT long again. Yikes. I've been tied up with school and life (and fire emblem) that I haven't had a chance to write. But here I am and fueled by pure hype. 
> 
> Okay, anyways, enjoy!!

Ever since you had been married, your default expression had been furrowed brows, down turned lips, and blank stares. You would put on a cheerful facade during events that required you to smile and wave but, there hadn't been too many of those since you had gotten thrown into your situation. You weren't very busy in other words. You expected to be tossed into the royal duties of a future Queen but, they'd mostly let you wonder around with no real aims. You only served a purpose when they needed you. 

You didn't talk to many people other than the guard that had been assigned to follow you around and protect you. He didn't really make for much of a stimulating conversational partner but, you supposed he was a good listener (or good at pretending to listen). You knew he was probably just there to protect the government's property—you. Your parents hadn't come to visit since the wedding but, you also knew they had to continue on with their own lives. The only real contact you had with the outside world other than the news were the letters you and your cousin would exchange. 

You'd actually received a letter from your cousin a few days ago that you'd already responded to and, she'd went on for three pages about how pissed off she was that the _misogyny of the military had reached an all time high (and low) when she had been denied to sit at the "boy's table" in the base._ Her obviously sardonic tone had made you smile and miss her even more fiercely. She had stated that despite the immaturity of her foot soldier comrades that she was being looked at by her superiors for a promotion. You'd gleefully expressed your hopes for her and wished her safe return. You'd not let on how much you _hated_ being stuck in the Lucian palace as to not worry her. She usually took a few days to get back to you so, you were expecting a letter with the week.

In the meantime, you were stuck in your boredom. 

Where was your husband, you might ask? 

Ah, the answer was quite simple. Despite Tenebrae being branded as traitors to the Lucian throne and his previous engagement being broken with the Oracle-Princess, he still only had eyes for Luna. You didn't blame her. You tried not to hate her—she was there first, you kept telling yourself. It wasn't her fault that Tenebrae was branded traitorous, it was the Imperials. You did everything in your power to not harbor animosity towards the blonde haired woman and yet, you still felt envious. It was normal. She was the woman who overshadowed you in Noctis's minds. You were just someone he had to stand next to at parties. 

Supposedly, from what you heard through the gossiping maids that would sometimes walk by your bedroom, he was visiting Lunafreya in Altissia. She had been staying in the neutral country since the Imperial invasion of her home and since the country bordered Lucis, you assumed it was not too crazy to assume that he was with her. Though, you didn't know. The number of times you'd actually seen him since your wedding, you could count on one hand. 

Today you had dragged your poor guard into the sweltering heat of the gardens. It was beginning to look like spring and soon the gardens would be blooming in an array of vibrant colors. You were looking forward to that since the only flowers in bloom were cyclamen—though they made an effort to always having the national flower in bloom. You'd taken up to lounging under the shade of a tree that had just started to sprout its leaves back. Your silent guardian standing sentinel just a few away from you, eyeing the area for any threats. You struggled to stay interested in a book you'd taken from the castle's library a few days ago. It was one of your favorites despite its seemingly childish tone—it was a fairytale you used to love hearing as a little girl. Now, it only made you sad and angry. 

As the protagonist began to give a lengthy dialogue about how much he longed for her prince, you sighed and shut the book. It felt less glittery now, you thought. Out loud you spoke, "What is wrong with me?"

You'd been speaking your thoughts out loud, you'd certainly not expected to receive a response. Despite this fact, you got one anyways. It came from behind you, too. There had been a teasing lilt in his tone as he spoke, "If you asked me, I'd say 'nothing'."

You jumped a mile in your skin and a small Yelp of surprise passed by your lips as you scooted back. A mess of blonde hair, freckles, lanky limbs appeared from behind your tree. How you didn't hear the man who'd snuck up on you was bound yourself? There was also a problem of your guard having turned at your yelp bounding your way with protective intentions. The blonde immediately looked at the guard and exclaimed, "Gladiolus!"

Your eyebrows shot upwards and you were suddenly very aware of this man and his identity. You'd seen him before, maybe once or twice. He was one of your husband's friends. Probably the one he'd met in his teenage years, judging by his quite casual appearance and slack posture you didn't take him for a nobleman's son. His expression changed completely when he saw your guard, a tall, burly man. You hadn't really taken in your guard's appearance up until now but, you were sure that he could take on an entire behemoth by himself judging by the size of his muscles. "How'd you get stuck on grunt work?"

"It's not grunt work...it's called doing my job. You should get one, one day," Your guard, Gladiolus, had spoken. His voice was coarser and gruffer than you'd previously realized. The duo seemed close and once more, you felt like a black sheep.

"Your highness?" Gladiolus put his hand out to you so that you could get to your feet. You dusted yourself off and clutched your novel. Meanwhile, the two men continued to talk. Surely, it was rude to speak without including the future Queen, but you remembered your true, unspoken title: _Replacement._

"Have you seen Noct, Gladio?" Prompto crossed his arms. You were quiet, as if being silent would let you turn invisible, let you slip away into the background...

Gladio shook his head, "Last I heard he was..." His eyes slid to your form and the words died on his lips. You knew he knew—who didn't?

"Last you heard what?" The blonde snapped his fingers, impatient. Gladiolus jabbed the blonde painfully in the ribcage. "Ow! What was that—"

"Princess, would you like go?" Gladio asked you, now ignoring the blonde. His rumbling voice shook you out of your pity party and you gave a weak smile. 

"Please, don't mind me. If you'd like to talk, please go on." You sounded so pathetic. Aranea would have been furious at the way you'd been glumly gone on in your new surroundings. She had been so excited about your position—she'd have proudly served the throne if it meant you were seated upon it. Her words were the only consolation you took seriously. 

The larger man returned the curtesy and said, "I won't do anything that would make you uncomfortable, Princess. You're under my watch, but I'm your guard." He tilted his head towards the blonde, smirking and said, "Besides, Prompto isn't important."

Prompto scoffed and threw his arms down at his sides, "Hey!"

The pout that formed on his lips brought a small giggle from your lips. Both men gave you a surprised expression, it made you nervous. Prompto's face melted into that of a wide grin before he nudged Gladiolus and chuckled, "Noct bagged a cutie, yeah?"

Your face reddened. Gladiolus hit Prompto on the arm, to which the lean man rubbed the spot. "You can't talk about her like that."

"What? It was a compliment!"

"A compliment?," you blushed a little more. It was the first time you'd actually been genuinely complimented. Or at least you believed his words to be genuine. He'd had close ties to the Prince and you'd expected him to brush you off like Noctis had.

He chuckled again at the look of shock on your features, "Of course! I'd never pass up on telling a girl she's cute!" 

"Stop messing around with her, Prompto. You know what Noct said," Gladiolus had whispered the last half of his comment, going unheard by you. 

Prompto waved the man off, nonchalantly quipping, "He's just being overly dramatic! I can't talk to whoever I wanna talk to, besides he's not here right now!" The gunner stepped to your side and taking your hand in his, "Are you doing anything right now, Princess?"

"Uh," you hadn't been sure what was happening. Gladiolus crossed his arms, mildly annoyed with Prompto but, not enough to pull him away. "Not really..." You hadn't even really gotten through the second chapter of your book yet.

"Would you like to do something fun?"

"More than anything," the words flowed automatically. You'd been so eager to anything with anyone. Your eyes had lit up at his proposition and when the blue-eyed man locked eyes with Gladiolus, you heard him sigh in defeat. 

"Follow me," he smiled at you and your heart soared. You felt lighter as he held your hand gently and guided you through the dreary gardens. Gladiolus was following closer now, too.

Prompto would occasionally strike up mundane conversation about your time in the castle. Your responses had been curt and short, unable to express your true feelings without letting on how miserable you were. It wasn't a burden he needed to be worried about. 

He'd offered his arm and you took it as a sign of trust. He was loud and you didn't mind—he was a breath of fresh air compared to the gloominess that you'd been experiencing in the castle. Gladiolus followed you two, close enough to occasionally tell Prompto to be careful. (His high energy and eccentric way of talking had your arm flinging around in his grip. A Princess's dislocated shoulder wouldn't serve well for the blonde's already shaky court reputation.) 

"So, have you ever used a gun before?"

"Prompto!" 

"What?! I was just asking!" He defended himself after Gladiolus delivered a hard smack to the back of his head. Any harder and he might've lost vision.

You, of course, the antithesis to your dear cousin, had never even touched a gun. Aranea grew up protecting you; she made it her business that you'd never need to do it yourself. You shook your head, "No, I've taken a few fencing classes, but I never used a real blade."

"Fencing, huh? Noct's pretty good—"

"Prompto," Gladiolus interrupted the man. 

Prompto apologized, "Sorry...you probably don't wanna talk about him."

"It's alright," you looked at the blonde. "You have every right to talk freely; he is your friend."

"And right now he's being a royal ass," Prompto added with a too serious expression. You wrung your hands together, unsure of how to respond. A piece of you wanted to agree out loud, but then another side of you told you to hold your tongue. You couldn't bad mouth your husband to his own friends. No matter how much you hated the way you were treated, he was still the Crown Prince, you thought. It was not your position to be spiteful. You were ruining his life. You were ruining his happiness.

_You were the problem._

"H-hey, are you okay?" The blonde's expression when he looked at your face was one of worry. He saw the down turn of your lips, the very slightest of trembling and the glossiness in your eyes. Maybe he had offended you, you were Noctis's wife after all. He thought maybe you were upset with how he was behaving and looked to Gladio for help. The dark-haired man stepped next to you and Prompto, speaking with the low rumbling voice you'd never quite adjust to. 

"Princess, would you like to stop?"

You snapped out of your own thoughts, so absorbed in your self-hatred that you'd almost forgotten whom you were with. His eyes searched yours for any indication of your discomfort. Steeling yourself, you cleared your throat and feigned a smile, "No, I'm alright, I was just thinking. I'm fine." The two men exchanged a skeptical look, but having no position to argue with you, continued on.

It was odd, actually. You half expected them to lead you to Noctis, to ridicule you, and laugh at you for being so naive as to think you were actually important. You expected them to turn against you and tell you you were just a replacement. Any moment could be that moment and you were trying to keep a neutral expression so that they would see how nervous you were. With every step you grew more and more sure that they were going to hurt you and you unconsciously gripped Prompto's arm too hard. 

He hissed a little and asked about your state once again. The sincerity in his voice went unheard and you thought he was only asking because you were hurting him. You didn't think they cared. No one cared about you. You were just some stupid noblemen's daughter. You weren't a Princess no matter how many times Gladiolus addressed you as such. 

•

Prompto hated how distraught you looked as he escorted you towards the shooting range. Even when he sat you down to watch as he skillfully shot every target, you have a ghost of a smile and light applause. When you thought no one was looking, you'd put your head down and clutch at the skirt of your dress. Noctis had been so adamant in telling him not to talk to you. He said you were just "someone he had to deal with until Lucis liberated Tenebrae". Noctis was already planning on marrying Luna after he cleared the name of Tenebrae and its people. He didn't want anything to do with you and never would, he said. He told them that you were just some Lucian noble that married him because your family was in the good graces of the Council. He claimed you were just as much a liar as the rest.

Prompto couldn't see that, though. He saw someone just as unhappy as Noctis, perhaps more so. He didn't know much about the aristocracy and the people within it, but he could tell when a person was a good soul. You were a good person, he could tell. You were just stuck in a shit problem and to hell with Noctis if he couldn't see past his own selfishness. 

He loved Noctis like a brother and would follow him to hell and back, but he wouldn't stand for this. 

The blonde approached you, hand outstretched, a warm smile on his lips, "Do you wanna try?"

Your eyes widened, "I-I don't think that's a good idea."

"Nonsense, it's easy. Plus, you said you wanted to do something fun. Watching someone isn't as fun as it is doing it yourself."

Regardless of your words, you took his hand, "I don't know how..."

"Gladio, will you tell the Princess that she is in the presence of the best sharpshooter in all of Lucis?" 

Gladiolus, who'd been leaning on the bench you'd been seated on, waved his hand nonchalantly. "You don't need to worry, Your Highness. He's been holding a gun since he was able to use the toilet."

Prompto shrugged, leading you towards the range, "Okay, maybe not that long, but ever since I was thirteen."

Gladio shouted back, "Isn't that what I just said?"

"You better watch it!"

"I'm quivering in my boots, Prompto. I really am."

The gunner grumbled an insult towards him but otherwise turned back his attention. Giving you a nervous laugh, Prompto gives you the basic rundown of gun safety. _Don't point the gun at people, face it down. Treat it as if it were loaded. Unless you plan on firing the weapon, don't put your fingers on the trigger! Always, always, have the safety on when not using the gun. Beware of recoil! Widen your stance, aim, breathe, squeeze the trigger._

Your mind was dizzy with all the information he spouted. When he asked you if you were ready, you nervously agreed. He asked you twice. You nodded again. The gun was heavy. He made you wear ear and eye protection and begged you to be careful of the recoil. He couldn't be able to stand being the cause of a bruise on the Princess's forehead. He also told you about how the casing of bullets might fly out. That freaked you out, but not enough to change your mind. 

"Okay, so, you have to click the safety off. I loaded it already," he said loud enough for you to hear through your ear wear. You wriggled your thumb around on the weapon before finding the safety me clicking it. "Make sure you keep it pointed down range. I like the way my face looks, alright?"

"What should I shoot?"

"The target...the one closest, I guess," he pointed down range at a wooden cutout of a human silhouette. "Remember, point, aim, and squeeze the trigger. That's all it is." Your arms came up, shaky but you took a breath. You had asked for this. Okay, maybe not this exactly, but you were looking for anything to do but be bored out of your wits. You didn't want to make them think you were terrible at this. It was, perhaps, your only chance to make them see you as useful or capable. You couldn't mess it up. You couldn't let Noctis have any more reasons to think you were a waste of space. 

You fired off one round. You'd nearly hit your head as the gun recoiled back, but you caught yourself before your forehead collided with steel. It missed. Prompto waved his hand, "It's fine! Try again, this time imagine something you hate...like a vegetable or something? That's what I do!"

A second shot was on the wood but not anywhere close to the center. He shifted, and you were beginning to believe that you were no good at this. He snapped his fingers and you readjusted your arms. They were not accustomed to the heavy gun and holding it up was giving your arms a warm burn. 

He removed the ear protection for a second, coming close to your ear and whispered something to you. A little smile came across your lips and you tried not to laugh. When he backed off and put the earmuffs back on you, you looked at Prompto and gave a firm nod. 

You took a deep breath, turned back to the target. You readied your aim and you squeezed the trigger. Gladiolus clapped loud enough for you to hear, "Wow, not bad, Princess!"

You fired off another round and then another and another until the entire clip was empty. Your heart rate was up and a bright smile crept into your painted lips. You could see how many holes littered the target and you laughed gleefully. Carefully handing Prompto the gun, you couldn't stop the shaking in your palms. You removed the ear and eye protection and gave them back to the blonde. Prompto gave you thumbs up and Gladio came near to eye the targets more carefully. He was impressed as well, and you were almost happy. You were proud of yourself. The small achievement of hitting a target gave you a much needed boost in your mood. 

And then—

"Prompto! Gladio! What are you doing?!" A shrill, ear piercing yell shattered your moment. Prompto froze, Gladiolus's smile disappeared and you had to turn to face the person responsible for such a reaction. Much to your surprise, Ignis Scientia stood before the three of you, sharp and presentable as ever. His reputation preceded him as a calculative man, punctual and blunt. He was the Prince's advisor and you'd only ever spoken to him at parties when he was forced to be pleasant. Though, you were aware that he did not come to earn a reputation as a cold man without reason. 

His glare made you feel like you had before. Prompto stuttered out, "N-nothing! I was just showing the Lady [Last Name] how—"

"It is no longer [Last Name], Prompto. And you have no right to be dragging her out here without telling someone," his tone was ice. Your hands found each other in a nervous manner and you stepped forward with an apologetic expression.

"It's not his fault, I agreed to this, really!" You were timid in his imposing presence. His icy gaze fell upon you, and unlike his friends, he did not let up on his harshness. 

"Well, Your Highness, I'm afraid you cannot just go about shooting weapons without proper supervision."

"Hey! Iggy, don't you think Gladio and I were capable?"

"Don't call me that!" You swore you saw a vein in his forehead threaten to burst. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed, "Regardless, the Princess cannot be put in any situation in which harm might befall her. I was informed that the Princess would be in the gardens and instead I find her in the company of you two and live ammunition. You need to inform someone. Especially since I've been looking for Gladio and the Princess for an hour."

"She was with—" This time Gladiolus tried to defend himself. 

Ignis interrupted before he could, "I don't make the rules. I just enforce them." You felt awkward again. You'd messed up, somehow. You'd gotten Prompto and Gladiolus in trouble and you were sure that Noctis would find out. Just another thing to hate you for...

"His Grace requests your audience," Ignis stated. 

"The P-prince?" You snapped your eyes to the brunette.

"No, Your Highness, the _King._ "

•

You had barely enough time to register what you experienced when Ignis opened the door to the King's personal study. 

_Oh, lovely,_ you thought.

Noctis, adulterous husband you had no desire to see, was present. 

_"You either consummate your marriage, or you forfeit the throne!"_ ' 

And then you knew, all chances of a simple conversation with the King went out the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I left you with a cliff hanger...(don't kill me!)
> 
> And finally, Noctis has officially (I mean, he'll be talking and interacting more frequently and directly) arrived. Brace yourselves, the dramatic romantic angst filled roller coaster is just gettin' started. 
> 
> See ya (hopefully) soon!!!!


	4. and so it begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, wow, I didn't think this would be as popular as it is now. So, thanks for reading and reviewing just know that everytime I see you guys give kudos, bookmarks or a review that I gush a bit and feel guilty that I'm not updating every day...
> 
> Anyways, here's this...(I apologize as its not anything but one of those transitory chapters, but hey, now the real story begins :D) 
> 
> (Also if you follow me on tumblr @  
>  **aranea-hi-ghwind** you can definitely tell me to update there or ask me questions or just chat ;D)

_"You either consummate your marriage, or you forfeit the throne!"_

These words rung in your ears and you swore you could feel your pulse in your eardrums. Noctis' father, His Majesty, had never shown you any ounce of malevolence and you thought he could never harbor any ill will from the even tone of his voice. His face was red and contorted, the mustache on his lip flared under the curve of his snarl, and Noctis was clenching his fists. The office was cold, the feeling not unknown to you. Noctis' eyes were threateningly purple bleeding into crimson as he heard his father's ultimatum. 

You had made the mistake of squeaking in fear at such an intense scene, surprised and taken aback that the Lucian heir could have that look in his eyes—a murderous glare—and directed at his own flesh and blood. It ran a chill down your spine and a feeling in your gut churned around. It was too difficult to pinpoint what exactly you'd experience but it had you pulling at your collar. 

Two sets of eyes landed on your figure in the doorway. King Regis softened his gaze just a smidgen, sympathetic to your justifiable fear, and Noctis rolled his eyes in disdain. If his own luck could be any worse, Luna would have strode in through the doors and then, hell! why not the entirety of Lucis and its asshole Council men and and women!? _That'd be just fan-fucking-tastic!_

You pursed your lips, you'd been just as unenthusiastic as Noctis had been about your arranged marriage and he had yet to hear your thoughts on the matter. Sure, you'd probably clam up if you had the chance to talk to him, but you still should have been obvious in your clearly disturbed body language! It wasn't like you were hopping to cling to his arm (well, not in the sense he assumed you wanted) and steal his crown. You'd just wanted to be happy with your future husband and you were at least wishing he'd make an attempt to make you fell less like a greedy devil and more like an equally uncomfortable party. You'd have given anything to have him marry Luna, if only to save your poor heart from breaking at his disgust for you. 

He hated you, though. His orders to his friends had been enough proof. You were a problem to him, an obstacle in his pursuit of happiness. 

This made your heart ache most.

You, the one thing that stood between him and her. You, the unwanted wife. You, a pest, a replacement. You were nothing but a lie in his eyes. 

And all your life would you be married to him. Divorce was not an option in your position, the Council had constructed their lie and it would take your death to undo what they did. All you ever wanted was to be loved and to love in return. 

"I won't touch her," he spat, a little too venomous to be chivalrous. "She wouldn't want me to either, I'm sure." He swept his gaze over to his father, more than likely he was sick of seeing you in his line of sight. You felt your knees tremble to hold yourself upright. The King shot his son a look, one with too many words unspoken.

He sighed, his voice still fun with conviction and yet, a little softer in your presence, "You can't run from your problems, Noctis."

Your voice shook, a bit of anger in you spilling over the brim of your inner resolve, "I-I will...do what the King demands of me if the better–better wellbeing of Lucis is at stake."

Noctis' scowl worsened, if at all possible, and he crossed his arms, "Oh, she's a martyr, now, too. Unbelievable..." His irate muttering a not fully reaching you, but you understood the gist of his aggravation. You. (Wow, surprise.)

Your hands hung in front of you before you drew you words together with as much false courage as you could muster and said, "I will...for Lucis!" He could mope and groan about it, but you'd been prepared to sacrifice for your duty as the new Princess of Lucis. You had dreaded any thought of it, but you were obedient. Wasn't that why they had chosen you? Because you followed the word of Lucis? Because you were a _good girl_? So be it, then.

"You'd throw away everything for a one girl?"

"At one point in your life, you would've been happy that I would. I'm not the villain in this; you sit in your meetings and you and all those idiots deemed Luna the traitor. This isn't my fault. I get to be mad!"

"You're a foolish and selfish child!"

Noctis grit his teeth, he was getting nowhere with his father and in the swirling crystal dust, his body glowed, electric blue before the shattering of glass filled the air. He'd warped out of the room, and you'd been left with your face red from anger and a King who was not yet finished lashing out at his son. You wanted to leave, desperately, but he was the King and you could not just warp away like Noctis. 

King Regis rubbed the tension between his eyes and his voice became tired. He'd argued for so long and this argument was an explosion that had been long overdue, you knew. Your hands shook in the aftermath of the confrontation. Aranea would have clapped at your burst of anger, a proud dopey grin on her face at the sight of her baby cousin. Lucky for the Noctis, Aranea was not present because if he didn't have a stick up his ass, he certainly would after she was done with him. 

"I'm...I apologize you have to endure all of this."

"I was chosen...and I will do my duty as the Princess, Your Majesty."

"I must also apologize about sending for you. My head isn't clear anymore, I'm afraid I will have to postpone this talk. Over tea, tomorrow afternoon?"

"Of course, You Grace. I will look forward to it greatly."

He gave you a somber smile, you knew he was as understanding as he was trying to be given he had no real understanding for your situation. King Regis married out of love. It was one of the stories you'd been told as a child. Lady Eliana from Altissa had stolen his heart while a young man, just barely eligible for the crown and while he had been expected to to marry someone with more prominence, she had been the one for him. There had been less contempt towards his choice amongst the Council of Lucis andKing Regis was wed soon after to the woman his heart yearned for. Noctis had been her gift to the world before she had been taken from Eos. 

He felt the air between you two grow awkward and chose to dissolve the thick tension, "You are finding the castle to your liking, yes?"

The sudden shift in causality in the conversation gave you whiplash and you had to take a second to reestablished yourself before answering as evenly as possible. "Yes, though there's little to hate when one lives in a castle, I'm afraid."

_But if I had to name a few..._

He tried to laugh at that, you tried not to give up on your melting smile and with a small gesture of his hand, he bowed at the waist a bit, "If you will excuse me, Lady Caelum."

You flinched at the words, but took your strides out the door with as little frigidity in your shoulders as possible. It was not easy hearing your new last name. It was not easy adjusting, at all. You had nothing to do, nowhere to go.

It was almost a blessing that you saw blonde hair in the hallway. He was propped up against the wall, arms crossed, the to toes of his boots clicking together as he balanced his weight on his heels and the wall. You cautiously approached, hoping you wouldn't be robbed of having decent company again. The coast remained clear and Prompto got sight of your form, a grin on his face as he went for your hands. 

"Hey, are you alright?"

You gave him a nod, and his expression went from worried to bright just like that. "I know Noct can be a dick sometimes, he's just pissed and I promise he'll come around eventually."

"I'm not so sure of that." He let your hands escape from his grip and you fiddled with them, "I'm sorry if I got you into any trouble. I realize that I am not who he wants me to be. I know that I'm unwelcome and if you feel like you are obligated to make me feel better, I'd rather you not. I...I don't wish to be pitied and I don't want you to be troubled—"

"Why are you so afraid of Noctis?"

"What?"

He crossed his arms and stood straight, his voice was not accusatory but rather genuinely puzzled at your words. "You act like he's going to chop my head off if I talk to you—which, I'm doing because I'm not an ass like he is—Noctis is the least of your worries. If you had anyone to fear, I'd recommend Ignis." The corner of his lips pulled upwards into a smirk, as if by saying this he had come to a mischievous revelation.

And he had, indeed.

Again, he said, "I don't know why you're afraid of Noctis." This time adding on, "He cried when he read _Pride and Prejudice._ "

You were taken back by this. Prince Noctis? The sight of him wiping tears out of his eyes while reading of such a novel was practically impossible to picture. "Why would he even read anything like that?"

Prompto chuckled, "He did all my book reports in high school, and I would sneak him out of his pretty little palace to go to parties. Fair enough trade, I think." He looked off as if he faintly remembering an instance in which Noctis and he were scaling down the side of the palace, trying to miss Cor's security details. "He hated being cooped up when we were younger. Still does."

"Where were you when I was sixteen?" You tried to joke and he laugh a bit. 

"Doing nothing good, I guarantee, Lady [Last Name]."

You frowned, "You could call me anything but that...I would actually prefer it."

"Sorry," he rubbed the back of his neck and grinned with his teeth showing in an apologetically disarming manner. He was trying his hardest as to not make you feel like you were being pitied and tried to limit his apologies. It was difficult given the delicate situation you'd been thrown into. "But, like I said before...Noct's not that bad. He's just..."

"In love with someone else?"

Prompto quickly said, "—upset."

"I know...I know he loves Princess Flueret...I know he'll put her above me every single time, but to even been seen in his eyes as something other than a nuisance is my hope...I'm not asking him to love me, I know that's childish. I'm not asking him to like me. I just want him to know I didn't want this to happen...I just...it's not...fair to anyone. _I know._ "

Prompto frowned at the way your voice cracked after he'd tried so hard to place a smile on your face. He made it his mission to make you smile the rest of the evening. 

•••

Night had rolled over Lucis quicker than you wanted it to, Prompto had escorted you as close to your chambers as he the guards would allow and you bid him good night. He was a good man. Someone like him, a silver lining in your dreary life at the palace, deserved a better friend than Noctis. That spiteful Prince didn't deserve Prompto's friendship in your opinion.

Your walk back through the hallway that led down to your bedchamber was quiet. Prompto's laugh had kept you company all evening and now that it was gone, you could feel your dreadful reality creeping back. The door swung open with a creak and you made your way to the restroom. You deserved a shower, a time and place to think about what your life was to become and had become already. 

Prompto had filled your evening with silly stories and jokes and anything to keep your mind off the problem at hand. He was the most pleasant company you had received in the entirety of your stay at the castle. Noctis would find a way to ruin that for you, you assumed, being that he'd had it in his head that he wanted none of his companions speaking to you. Gladiolus would probably go right back to ignoring you in the morning and he'd probably hoard Prompto all to his own. 

You'd go right back to being nothing but a decoration—someone pretty to sit by Noctis' side. 

You peeled off your clothes, kicking them off to the side as you turned the water on, turning the knob towards the warmer side. Filly soaps and shampoos lined a shelf and you were not the type to use a scarce amount. Perhaps it was the result of your lavish upbringing, but you couldn't get enough of soapy bubbles. A habit of pouring too much in a bath or using too much on a loofa had yet to die out in your heart. Your mother would scold you at home but you thought you deserved to enjoy something in this marriage. Apparently, soap was that something.

You'd chosen a cream colored soap—cocoa butter and vanilla—sweet and fragrant. You ran your hands through your soapy hair and hummed, content. If you could live in the solitude and warmth of a shower, you would never leave. It was strange that at your most vulnerable as a human was the most comfortable you felt. It wasn't a matter of safety (you knew you were more than well protected) but a matter of happiness. You could actually feel your tensions washing down the drain as you massaged your scalp and hummed. You could close your eyes and pretend you were home and not trapped in a loveless marriage. You could escape for a moment. 

_Or, you could lament, out loud, without wandering eyes or listening ears._

"You're going to be okay," you scrubbed your arm, trying to console yourself. As you scrubbed a grim thought flittered through your mind. 

A reminder that you, a nervous, naive mess, had so gallantly professed how prepared and willing you were to fulfill your duty as Queen. You'd said it, of course, and you had meant it, but you didn't really think about it. You had known your duty was to produce an eligible heir to the throne, but you hadn't thought about what it took to produce an heir. 

Yes, you knew **how.**

It just didn't hit you until now. 

A blush dusted your cheeks as you thought about it. You and Prince Noctis...

_You and your husband._

Gods spare your frail heart, you had to... _you had to..._

You put your entire face under the water, hoping the hot water would wash away all the images of you and him entangled in bed together. Was he going to take you without your consent? His birthright was at stake and even though he had said he would touch you, what if the King made good on his promise? You had so foolishly sat the martyr in the King's study! You'd never even kissed before your wedding day and yet the fate of nation rested on the if you and Noctis coupled! 

Aranea would probably try and tell you to kick him in the face if he tried to force you into anything. Hell, if she ever found out about how he treated you now, he'd be six feet deep in the ground already. 

Your parents would tell you it's all business. All duty. You should just get it over with for the betterment of the nation. It was your part to play. Just your part to play...

The traitorous romantic in you played scenes of tender caresses and saccharine kisses peppered between heated embraces. These thoughts you tried to push away—silly and stupid and hopeless and dangerous to your health. He'd never look at you like he used to look at Luna, he'd never kiss you like her, never love you like he loved her. You held yourself under the water, as the suds circled the drain. He was probably with her now. He'd not been seen all evening or so you had heard from the gossiping dignitaries who walked the halls and judged you as they stayed. They'd whispered just loud enough for you to hear and gauged your reaction accordingly. 

You were not surprised if he had indeed escaped to the arms of the Oracle. Had you another lover, you'd want to be with them as well, but you were a _good girl._

Plush towels were left in your bathroom and you were a fan of that fact as you stepped out to wrap one around your body. Even after the water had stopped, the air was steamed around you. Your soaking hair dripped on the tiles beneath your feet as you made your way back into the bedroom. The vanity was not far and your lavender lotions would help ease you into a peaceful sleep tonight, Etro knows you needed it.

_You just hadn't expected there to be another body in your bed._

It certainly wasn't there when you had entered the shower.

His eyes were closed but he still had his shoes on, so he must've fallen asleep waiting on you.

That in itself seemed crazy. 

Unsure of yourself, you cleared your throat and awkwardly approached, clutched the towel close to your body. He could at least wake up to leave. You didn't exactly want an audience as you got dressed...

"Um..." You were standing by the bed, just far enough to run but close enough to poke him with the tip of your index finger. "Excuse me?"

He didn't shift and you held your breath and you poked him harder than before. Again his reaction was nonexistent. So you let out your breath and spoke, louder and more urgent, "Prince Noctis!"

His eyes snapped open and slid your way as his lips were cast downwards. You stepped back and clenched tighter on your towel, thankful it covered enough of your body, but a blush still crept up your neck. You tried you best not to sound so nervous under his hateful glare, "Could you...excuse yourself for a moment? ... _Please?"_

He shifted his gaze elsewhere and threw his legs over the side of the mattress, "This was my room before it was yours."

You could feel your heartbeat I'm your ears and even with the pounding, you tried to muster some strength not to stutter in front of him, "Even so—"

"I'm going to leave, so don't bother trying to act high and mighty about yourself," he waved your pathetic attempts at standing up for yourself and you backed away to the vanity as he left the room. Your heart was beating loud enough that he probably heard it, too. You took a deep breath to console your nerves and made a quick job of moisturizing your skin before throwing on a pair of silk pajamas. You went to the door and peeked your head out, looking for him in case he was still there. He brushed past you opening the door and kicking his boots off near the foot of the bed. 

You crossed your arms and remained a ways away from his hostile presence.

"What are...what are you doing?"

He gave you a look. "What do you think I'm doing? I'm going to sleep. In my bed. I'm tired."

You pursed your lips and your palms felt sweaty. You couldn't possibly sleep next to him with a dooming ultimatum looming over your heads. "Where am I supposed to...sleep, exactly?"

He shrugged, "Anywhere you'd like. I don't really care."

Nervously, you stepped forward, "You should offer me the bed..."

"No one is stopping you."

Your eyes widened, "That's not what I meant!"

He rolled his eyes, grimacing, "Look, I don't care what you meant. I'm going to bed. You can sleep on the floor or in the bed. I'm not going to throw myself on you, regardless of what my father thinks I have to do."

You hesitated for a minute before going to your side.

Well, that gave you some form of reassurance as you slid under your side of the blankets. You'd pushed yourself as close to the edge as possible, far away from him. 

He pulled the drawstring on the lamp net his side of the bed, the only light on in the bedroom, and you were left to linger in your thoughts. The dark of the room helped you pretend he was not there but it would only take a slight readjustment on his end for you to be reminded that he was there. Your heart rate was up, your face was red, and your nerves were shot. On top of your bed being commandeered, you had to pretend like you were sweating profusely out of nerves next to him. 

_What was he thinking about? Was he asleep? What if you accidentally rolled over? What if you fell off the bed? What if he snored? Would he say anything in the morning? Who he even still be there in the morning?_

You could kiss that good night's rest goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, sorry it's not much   
> /;^;\  
> but, now that we've overcome this stupid chapter, we get to get some Noctis action ;D  
>  ~~and that's what this has all been for, that princely booty~~
> 
> I promise the next chapter won't take as long I swear...!


	5. dinner and a show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said that this was ready a couple days ago, but I was super preoccupied with watching "Penny Dreadful" so apologies on that. In other news, I may be getting a new job soon so that's fun. (But, sad, because I will miss sleeping in...) 
> 
> Anyways, without further ado, here's this chapter.

_Kitten,_

_I have a surprise for you, dear cousin. One I think you'll enjoy._

_P.S. If anyone has been mistreating you, I swear to Etro, I'm gonna kick their asses from Lucis all the way to Tenebrae._

_A.H._

You'd received this letter in the morning. 

It had been an entire week since Noctis had permanently taken back his bed. And while, you tried your hardest to ignore the way the linens captured his scent, you had to remain unmoved. The lack of a decent sleep was showing on your face and it had been noticed by your maids who'd asked you if you were feeling ill three times this week. You were, but asking for help after denying it seemed stupid now. You didn't want to look like a sickly little girl in front of Noctis either, not that he seemed interested in your whereabouts during the day. He was never around and only appeared by your side at night. The conversations were short. More often than not it was just to tell you to _turn the lights off_.

You'd had to end your days early so that you could shower before he showed up and you having to repeat the first night. 

Again, you'd been left in the morning, his scent tainting the pillows that he'd left. You couldn't help it, bless your tender heart, you were curious. It was embarrassing, actually. It was easy to love someone that smelled as good as he did. What ever would you do if he happened upon you slinking towards his side just lay your head on his pillows? You'd probably die right then and there. 

Breakfast consisted of the usual balanced meal, brought to your room everyday, and ended in a small cup of coffee. You brushed your teeth afterwards, and then you begun your day. Gladiolus had, in fact, been reassigned, and you'd been given a stoic, nameless guard who followed you around but made no attempt to speak to you. (Not even really look at you either.) You didn't see Prompto either, it seemed even he wasn't slick enough to avoid Noctis' petty vengeance on you. 

There was a silver lining in your future, though. 

The beginning of Spring was fast approaching and the Spring Equinox Festival was one of your favorite holidays celebrated in Lucis. Something about seeing the dreary, glum streets decorated with flora in every color of the rainbow had always excited you as a child. It was a day that the citizens could relax and focus on the beauty of their homeland's nature despite living so modernized. It transformed the concrete into fields, asphalt into a sea of flower petals, the sides of buildings transformed into murals of landscapes of distance rural sceneries. You'd loved the parties that people would host for the Spring Equinox, the crowns of flowers your mother would weave for you and your cousin, and the big parade that stretched on and on through the streets up to the castle gates. 

You could only remember one time that you'd been invited to a famously lavish Caelum Garden Party, and it had ended with Aranea punching someone which promptly had you and her escorted back home. Your parents' invitations seemed to get lost after that. It wasn't all that bad, because you could have sworn the parties your father had thrown in your own estate were far better. (They always catered your favorite foods.) 

Now, you were not only invited to the Caelum Garden Party, but you were an official host on the invitations. Something you'd only been informed of that morning. The Festival was in a few days, but you'd known that the people actually advising the arrangements had been doing so since the last one. Your only role was to sign off on a few party decisions. 

It was to be your first official decree as the Princess and your first real appearance as Princess of Lucis. 

As such, you were graced in the presence of Ignis Scientia, an advisor and long trusted friend of your husband. The fact that his intense gaze never really landed on you, but rather past you, unnerved you and had you uneasy.

He handed you a stack of papers, requiring your signature, and a pen, before he crossed his legs and sipped at his cup of coffee. You were seated in the sunroom that overlooked the large castle gardens. Workers were stringing lights and trimming hedges, planted new flowers and bustling around to clear any and all unsightly debris from the lawns. The area had to be something out of a fairytale, something out of a movie. You looked them over and struggled to get over how immensely complex the writing was considering it was for... _catering_.

You gave a small chuckle, meaning to clear the somewhat awkward air that had settled between you two, "I guess catering is a big deal if it requires an official approval."

His sharp eyes slid over in your direction, he set the porcelain down so gently it did not even make a clink on the tabletop. "Even matters such as the food one serves at a party can affect the diplomatic relations between noble families and the crown, so yes, catering _is_ a big deal, Your Highness."

You sighed, eyes scanning over the paper. It was all legal jargon and full of terms of agreement, a full menu was prepared and you signed the line at the bottom next to the Caelum royal seal of approval. Underneath that was one for lighting. You resisted the urge to sigh again. 

He seemed to sense your painful reaction to having realized how much wording was involved in the process of signing papers was. He crossed his arms and said, "As the advisor to both you and Prince Noctis, you can be assured that I do read and revise every document that will land in your laps. As such, you need not have a reason to read anything, but should you feel the need to look over the terms of agreement between the Crown and the Royal Festival Committee, you are more than welcome."

Your eyes flicked up towards him and you realized he was smirking, smugly so. You signed the form and responded, "So, I suppose any life threatening decor or possibly offensive material in these contracts that may have been present, have been fixed by yourself?"

"You would suppose right, Your Highness, but as I said before, you can always read them yourself. I am in no position from stopping you."

You looked at the stack of papers below you on the table and nibbled your lip in contemplation. It wasn't as though you mistrusted the man's intelligence or decision-making, you simply mistrusted his position in your life. Not as an advisor, but as a friend of your husband. Ignis had made no intention clear of being as friendly and understanding as Gladiolus or Prompto. It could be admired at his loyal and commitment to his friendship, but it only made you hesitant. 

Ignis Scientia could probably arrange for you to be taken off the throne in an instant before dinner time, but instead he picked up his cup and stated over the rim of its porcelain lip, "If you're worried about their contents, I'd be happy to give you the paraphrased version of each."

"It's...not that. Forgive my hesitation, I'm just—"

"Worried that I'm plotting against you?" He raised a brow and you could see the upturned corners of his lips reach above the lip in a chilly smile. "I'm not here to put you in a position that might be unsavory to you. I may be a friend to Prince Noctis, but I make it my business not to mix business with pleasure. I have the best interests of the Crown in mind, and I haven't slipped you anything that might endanger the integrity of the future queen of Lucis."

You fingers traced the edge of the parchment and you moved to go and finish signing the papers before you without question. The paranoia that he was plotting your demise dying down if only to end the meeting as soon as possible. You handed both and pen and stack to him and his took each in his gloved hands, a smile closer to an actual smile crossed his lips and he thanked you for your time. A kitchen aid came around to take your empty cups and Ignis adjusted his glasses before excusing himself, leaving you with your guard and thoughts. 

It was a blessing you'd been seated in the sunroom, so that you didn't have to walk about the castle. Your boredom was flaring up again and you settled your chin on your hand, watching as the workers made the arrangements outside. Tomorrow you hoped would be better as you were apparently getting fitted for a new gown that you'd have to don at the party. There had not been much for you to do, and you were beginning to understand why noblewomen took up activities like fencing, archery or chocobo riding as hobbies to fill their time. 

You could use a hobby. Something more exciting than reading, maybe? The day you had gone to shoot with Prompto had the most fun you'd had in ages and you wished Noctis had stolen him away from you. Perhaps you'd take up fencing like you had done in the past, or perhaps learn an instrument...

"Or, perhaps I'll just rot away from boredom," you sighed, tracing aimless shapes on the table top. The minutes ticked by, a little piece of your dull life fluttering away into oblivion as boredom settled. It was only when a servant came to your side, giving a low bow before presenting you with a folded card upon a silver platter. (It may have well been your head, though.) 

Skimming the note, you'd not recognized the handwriting at first but rather choked on your own realization that the signature was the very same upon your marriage license. It shook you to your very core—the contents—for you were to join your darling husband for dinner tonight.

•••

Dinner could not arrived any slower. Your handmaids had spared no expense as you twirled a strand of your hair, half deciding whether or not you were going to run away or fake an illness. Surely, you would be joined by the visiting dignitaries or the King, or maybe Noctis' friends! There wasn't any cause for you to be so nervous, you hoped against hope that your gut was right. What would your cousin think about you cowering so low for some rude punk of a prince? If you had to prove to anyone that you were capable, it would have to be to Aranea. She had been the person you'd admired most and she had taken you under her wing to protect ever since you were young. 

The nameless guard accompanied you silently through the hallway, down until you reached the dining hall. Inside was just another handful of people who would pity and judge you. They giggled behind corners, laughed while you were out of earshot and the gossip never ended. You'd never been too keen on listening to rumors about you; you'd never had to worry with your tough-no-nonsense cousin around. "The Woman Who'd Saved the Prince" had shifted into the spotlight indefinitely and with your first official public appearance as the soon-to-be Queen, you were far from safe from the gossip mill.

The sentinels at the large doors of the dining hall moved only to open the hall for you. If you had any bit of Aranea's rebellious nature in you, you'd have refused the invitation entirely, but you wanted so desperately to make this arrangement tolerable. A bit of you yearned for a sliver of peace between you and your husband. It wasn't fair, you thought, but what could you do? You were just a another piece on the board, another obstacle for Noctis, and another tool for the council.

The click of your heels stopped when you entered the hall, your guard standing besides the door, a stoic and silent guardian as your eyes scanned the length of the ornate dining table. 

All the chairs remained empty except one.

Red colored your cheeks before you could try to stop it. His eyes were shut and from the small movements of his hair, you could tell his breathing was even and slow. The food had not been served and while you looked for the servant for guidance as to where to sit, he decided for you. His pristine white gloves wrapped around the back of the chair adjacent to Prince Noctis and you quietly thanked him. (Inwardly, you screamed.)

You were seated right next to the man who hated you very position in his life, and you should've been scared for your life. It was impossible, though, with the way he leaned into his palm, completely asleep. The servant had left, probably to begin bring food out, and the silence was deafening. 

Your hands went from you lap to the table, fidgeting with themselves, unsure of how to proceed in such an awkward situation. You cleared your throat, quietly not even really effectively clearing your throat but simply to make a noise. When he didn't flinch or make any attempt of waking from your meager efforts, you changed your tactic. 

Your fingers found his arm that was resting on the table, limply so and with a small poke, you retreated quickly. Pounding in your ears drowned out whatever hesitant thoughts you were having as you repeated your actions with more pressure this time. _He slept like a rock,_ you thought. _How cute._

"Um...Prince Noctis..." You whispered, leaning forward to catch his ear. He didn't do much to acknowledge you except for furrow his brows like he was deep in thought. You leaned back, afraid that he was wake up and see how close you were getting to him. You didn't know much about his personality and you wondered what kind of person he'd be if he was rudely awakened. It didn't help your cause that you were probably the last face he would want to see. "Prince Noctis...?"

His skin looked too soft for someone so abrasive and it made your throat dry. You lamented that you must've been the worst kind of person in a past life to deserve to be married to a man who looked so handsome and not show any affection towards you. It was punishment you thought. 

There were details on his face you'd never noticed before. You weren't one to gush over your Royal family despite your love of fairytales and such. You were more curious about your own Prince Charming and not the one that had belonged to the Princess of Tenebrae. Noctis looked nothing like the storybook Prince's you'd dreamed of. They all had flaxen hair and bright eyes or soft brown locks that fell over rich warm eyes. Noctis looked more like the type of boy who Aranea used to bring home to shock your parents. The type of person to listen to music too loudly and talk about how the "man was oppressing us". 

Nevertheless, the more you looked upon his sleeping face, a soft pout to his lips, you couldn't help but think he was perfection. It was unfair that he should look so sinfully beautiful and have such a horrible attitude about you. 

Your fingers reached out again, shaking from the thought of touching such soft skin. When you'd kissed him on your wedding day, you remembered how your heart kept into your throat and how you could feel yourself melting into your heels. Everything was soft in your mind but you wanted to feel it all again. Was it all warm and tender as you remembered? 

His jawline set against the finely tailored collar, on his neck made you crave it all more fiercely. 

_So close..._

"Your Highness, if I may?" The servant from before had returned with more, all carrying silver trays covered but the smelled sneaked under their covers and you could tell that it was to be another scrumptious dinner. (It was one of the perks you'd learned to live with in your new life. One that helped end your boring days with something delicious.) 

You jumped in your seat, finger retracting back to your lap as if they'd been burned and you let your dinner be placed in front of you. 

One woman, curly hair in a tight bun, a nervous expression on her face as she held her hands in front of her, "Shall I wake the Prince, You Highness?" You'd never get used to such a grand title. You stopped thinking for a moment that she wasn't actually speaking to you. 

"Um...no, it's fine...I'll, uh, I'll wake him. Thank you."

"Your Highness," she bowed in acknowledgement and with the others left you to finish the food before you. It looked divine and the smells that wafted upwards had your mouth-watering. Noctis remained unaffected. 

"Prince Noctis..." You spoke louder, with as much strength as you could muster, hoping it would coerce him from his rest. You glanced around, biting your cheek, unsure of what to do. You picked up your utensils and sighed. You could just eat without him; you weren't rude. "Wake up!"

He jumped. A red indent on his flesh as he composed himself of his surroundings. He mouth slightly ajar as she blinked and took in where he'd fallen asleep. You clammed back up as his eyes landed on your person. 

"Wha—oh...right," he frowned as he made no attempt to hide his displeasure. He didn't look at you after that. 

If there was a world record, or something like that, of how long two people could sit in complete and utter silence as they ate soup, you'd probably be excellent contenders. Raised in wealthy standings, not once did your silverware clink the porcelain and as such you felt like you were deaf from the lack of auditory stimuli. It was strange. You'd never spent such a prolonged time at a dinner table without saying anything. Even when you'd eaten alone in this castle, you'd at least done so in the presence of bustling servants. They'd go about the room as you are quickly before going to your room again. 

The main entree of the evening was a grilled chicken platter with a medley of herb-roasted vegetables and potatoes. It smelled divine as you went for a piece of the chicken. You'd have to find out who was responsible in the Lucis kitchens because there had to be some sort of wizardry happening back there for something to be so flavorful and juicy all at once. 

As you slipped a chunk of a potato past your lips, you couldn't hold back the tiniest of moans. Aranea had always joked about how you loved food to the point where it could make others uneasy if you didn't remain conscious. You were usually careful, but something about the seasoning and the texture of your food was making it hard to keep a solid composure. 

It might have gone unnoticed in a normal dinner setting, one that was busy with conversation and the clinking of silverware but it was dead quiet. 

You readjusted yourself in your seat and tried to keep the red from staining your cheeks in front of Noctis. It was one thing to moan because of food alone, but it was another to moan because of food in front of him! If he noticed he didn't say anything, yet you couldn't help but feel like combusting on the spot. 

You made the mistake of looking upwards in his direction. He wasn't staring at you, thankfully, but he was removing every vegetable from his plate onto a smaller one. You furrowed your brows, a little confused. It was mere habit that you ask about an odd action, "What are you doing?"

He stopped and gave you a look. Not of annoyance but of guilt, like he'd been caught with his hand in a cookie jar. The look disappeared as he stabbed his fork into a potato, "Nothing."

"You...you don't like the food?" (Unlikely since the chef was producing pure magic in your mouth.)

He ate the bite and waited to swallow before answering you with a nonchalant tone, "I don't like carrots."

"They're good for you, you know?"

"So, you're going to be the one to tell me what's good for me? _My savior of a wife?_ Unbelievable."

You put your utensils down, pursing your lips, "You don't have to be rude to me. I was just trying to be helpful."

He scoffed, "Don't try to be anything you're not, okay? You're just like the rest of those idiots in the council, just like my father. You're not helping me."

( _And then suddenly the conversation wasn't about vegetables anymore._ )

"Why do you think I'm out to get you? I'm stuck in this too, if you haven't noticed..." You supplied but with less resentment than he did. You were helpless in your position. You couldn't complain openly about this mess. You were supposed to be the calm one. He got to act out and lash out and you had to sit compliantly. _"I just want to go home."_

Noctis looked at you now. Your head low and a frown on your lips, eyes glossy with tears that threatened to fall but never did. If you were acting, you deserved an award for this display of helplessness. He sneered at how you could possibly feel like a victim. You were just like the rest of those court ladies, parading around hoping to land a spot in a higher position. Your family must've had some real pull in the Council of you managed to replace his Lunafreya. It angered him just thinking about how they sat around a table and could so easily determine that one girl could be evil just because of her upbringings. Lunafreya had never shown an ounce of disloyalty and they'd tossed her aside like yesterday's garbage for some second rate replacement. 

"Then, leave. Because I don't want you here either," he spat before pushing himself from the table and leaving. 

You waited until the doors slammed before letting out a deep sob. The handmaids who'd came to collect you would not dare say anything as you wept.

Noctis wasn't in your bed that night. He was right in a way, you dared to think. You weren't helping anyone. You were just a dumb little girl with hopeless dreams that were dashed far too soon.

•••

You spent your next morning in the sunroom again. It was a peaceful kind of day where you could watch the gardens being tended to with care. The castle was usually quiet in the mornings and you were thankful that you could slip out before a guard came to escort you. 

They'd find you eventually, you knew. You'd been scheduled to have a fitting today for a dress that you'd be wearing for the Festival. It was a small joy you could look forward to. 

Other than that, you wanted to stay in bed and waste away.

A small chuckle from behind you broke broke your brooding. You let out a surprised squeak and turned your head to face whomever was sneaking up on you now. Much to your surprise and much to your confusion, you were met with near platinum blonde hair and smirking red lips. You leapt up and nearly tackled the woman who'd laughed. 

"Aranea!" You threw your arms around her neck and she went to pet your head like she had always done when you hugged. She laughed at your enthusiasm and you pulled back, beaming towards your beloved cousin. You put some distance between you but held her hands in your own, afraid that if you let go she would disappear. "Wh-what are you doing in Lucis?!"

She grinned, a playful glint in her eyes, "Oh, well, that was my real surprise, Kitten."

"What do you mean?"

She took a step out of your arms, and with a flourish, she bowed low, before rising with a smirk, "I'm to be your new personal guard. Apparently, there's been a serious lack in security for our new Queen-to-be. Your Father seemed to have a bit of say in the matter, I think, but I wouldn't turn the position down." She droned on, a casual air about her words that made you purse your lips and cross your arms. 

"Please don't play around, cousin!"

She halted her speech, and scoffed, "I'm wounded, Kitten! I wouldn't lie about this! I mean, if you'd rather have some drab little guard dog to follow you around, by all means, I can always decline—"

She was cut off by the force of the hug that you'd given her again. Your arms wrapping around her like your life depended on it. She chuckled at your enthusiasm but discovered that you weren't all joy and sunshine about her news. She felt your body shudder and her hands brought you away from her bosom to examine your features. Fresh tears ran down your cheeks and her thumbs went to wipe them away, "What is the matter, Kitten, what are you crying? Aren't you happy?"

Your lips trembled as you spoke, a sob stuck in your throat, "I-I missed you so much, Aranea."

She brought you close again and rocked you like she had when you were smaller. "I'm here now, and I'll make it all better, I swear...but, you have to tell me what's wrong. I'd murder the world if it meant you'd be happy, Kitten. Just tell me what the matter."

Fear filled you up, from your toes to the top of your head as you mulled over the thought of confessing your true reason for unhappiness. Her eyes searched your face and all you wanted to do was sob into her chest and pretend you were seven again. You wanted nothing more than to pretend you were a little girl who knew nothing about how fabricated love could be, nothing about how much it hurt to be ignored by the one whom was supposed to love you. The words came to you before you knew it, shaky, "I...I just want to go home..."

Her heart dropped at how defeated you sounded. It killed her most to see her beloved cousin so upset. She meant it. She would murder the world for you if you had the cruel heart to ask. You wouldn't, she knew. She loved you for your sweetness; it made her feel like she had someone worth fighting for, protecting you had all she had ever wanted to do when she was younger. Shelter you from the heartlessness of others because she had lived through it for too long until she came to live with you and your family. She wiped her thumbs across your reddened cheeks, "I'd think you want nothing more than to be a princess living in a castle..."

_"I...I don't want to be the Queen...I just...I want to go home, Aranea."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, no smut. BUT MY WAIFU IS HERE AND OH BOY NOCTIS, YOU FOOL, YOU THOUGHT I WOULD SPARE YOU FROM PAIN?!? MUAHAHAHAH!!!! 
> 
> (Also, next chapter for sure, for sure, swear I here and now, smut.)


	6. a change in routine—part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, this is like the worse news, I know, looks like the smut is delayed until next chapter and for good reason, too. This chapter was just not working with me at. All. And I am not even sure I like this one all that much but it kept stretching on and on. So much so I had to cut it in half and the second half has the smut but that half is not complete which why instead of making you wait 500 years for my SLOW ass to update, I figure an update with something is better than nothing.
> 
> This one's dedicated to **tea-solves-everything** aka my lovely beta and tumblr pal, who is basically the god of all think-tankers.
> 
> And also to everyone that reviewed and is still sticking with the story after all this time, you guys are awesome. Really.

Aranea let you cry until you couldn't anymore, she didn't try to stop you. She just let you cry and you sniffled, wiping your swollen eyes with the back of your hand. With a shaky tone, you said, "I'm s-sorry..." 

Her arms rubbed up and down your arms, gripping them softly to reassure you that she was here. Worry washed over her features and the fire in her eyes grew with the growing realization that you weren't happy. When the two of you had been younger, Aranea hated seeing you cry. When she had come to live with your family, she remembered seeing you in a frilly little dress, bows in your hair and she fretted having to spend her childhood with someone who looked like all they did was play dolls. 

You threw her into a hug upon meeting her, giving your name and asking for hers. You'd been cousins, but you'd never officially met until the day she came to live with you. Aranea had not expected to be drug around some manor at the mercy of some little girl who wouldn't stop giggling over how much they'd waited for her arrival. She had never made friends on her own, she'd not had much opportunity, and the warmth you exuded threw her for a loop. 

You led her to her room—right next to yours—and you showed her all the stuffed animals that you loved but were giving to her so then she would be happy here. She remembered how you snuck into her room the first night because you heard her crying. She hated it at first—called you annoying—but you were steadfast in your efforts. Even when she threw all your stupid plush toys at you and told you to leave her alone, you stayed because you didn't want to give up on family. 

"Aranea, I just wanted to—"

"You don't know anything about me! Leave me alone! You don't know anything; you're just a stupid little kid who thinks I'm their friend! 

"You're not my friend," you stifled back the tears in your eyes as you tightened your fists. "You're my family and you're supposed to love your family and, and you don't give up on people you love!"

She never forgot that. (She never has and never will.) You, the little girl who she thought only cared about being a bird and singing songs about your favorite flowers, had been so adamant in seeing that she wasn't sad. When she joined the royal fleet, she had missed your reassurance and smiles but she knew she was fighting the war to protect you. You had never given up on her and she wouldn't give up on you now. 

Her reassignment had come as a shock, but a pleasant one. The situation, Aranea knew now, was a far less pleasant one than she had imagined for her sweet cousin. Sobs replaced laughter and frowns replaced smiles that used to brighten rooms. Your shoulders sagged, your voice was timid and soft, and you were nothing like the girl she knew before. She knew you weren't this weak and it grated on every one of her nerves. 

How dare they let you wander about with a rain cloud over your head? How dare they leave you alone, tossing you to the side to tend to the whims of an ungrateful Prince who should have been waiting on you hand and foot?! How dare they!?

She pulled you away, gently, seeing your eyes red and puffy from the tears, trembling lip and all. She spoke, "Tell me what happened? Why are you so unhappy? Tell me and I will do everything in my power to make you smile again."

Your eyes shifted from her to the wall, your hand coming to wipe away any tears. It was hard to find your voice with the hiccups that bubbled out, but you managed a squeak of a volume and sniffled out, "I don't belong here, Aranea..."

Her brows furrowed together. She said, "I don't understand. You are the Princess. The Future Queen. What other place would you belong? You don't just belong here, you deserve it. You deserve the world, you know that?" There was a sincerity in her words solely reserved for you. She wasn't usually so serious and this side of her only came out when she truly cared about something, namely your well-being.

"I don't deserve to be the Princess," you spoke with your eyes cast down to the floor.

"I beg to differ."

"I'm not perfect, you know?"

"I know that, but you deserve to happy just like anyone else. You deserve to be a princess, a queen, an empress, whatever! You deserve more than what I'm seeing."

You sighed, your cousin was like this. This time you just couldn't stand it. She didn't understand. She wouldn't. She wasn't in your position. She didn't get it at all. Frustrated now, you said, "I don't want to live here in this castle if I have to be unhappy. I don't want to be married to the Prince if it means I have to be unhappy."

"So, that's it then? It's your marriage?" She crossed her arms and frowned. Her next words were laced with malice, "Prince Noctis must be asking for an early grave, then."

You grabbed at her forearms, "Please don't do anything brash..."

She laughed, "Brash? I wouldn't—"

"Aranea, please."

She was puzzled now. One moment you were crying your eyes out telling her you wanted nothing to do with your new life and now here you were defending the very problem. She sighed and rolled her eyes, "Fine. I'll think twice about high treason for future reference."

You released her, but felt nervous still. She took notice and went for one of your hands, cradling it in her own, "I want to help you. I'm here to protect you, but you have to let me know what I can do." She hastily added a less serious, "Since apparently maiming the Prince is out of the question."

Defeated, you admitted, "I can't do anything. I can't ask you to do anything, Ar, you have to understand that." The nickname you used on her only made her want to help you more. Her hand tightened around your own.

"You can't possibly think I am going to obey such a stupid request."

"I'm nothing but a pawn to the council, Aranea. I may have the title but it's nothing, but a farce..."

"A farce? So, that wedding didn't happen? Fake minister? Fake rings? Fake guests? Fake vows? Is that what you believe? That you are just some pawn?"

"Father told me we're all just playing a part."

"Your father? No offense, and I really do mean it, but this is the same man who thinks we evolved from chocobos. Forgive me if I think your old man has a few screws loose, okay?"

"You never take anything that I say to heart, do you?"

"That's not true! You know that isn't true!" She defended herself, a bit offended that you would even think a thing. She sighed, "So, you think you'er just a pawn?"

"I know I am."

She folded her arms and let your hand drop. She shrugged her shoulders, a crooked smile on her face looking more like you remembered she did, "You're just a piece on the board? Is that it? You know, the King may be the most important piece, but the Queen is the most powerful."

Your eyes met her own stormy greys. She was looking at you with that same kind of glint in her eyes where trouble followed quickly afterwards. Gulping back a response, you just stared back waiting for her to say something. Aranea did just that, but her tone fell into her usual playfulness, a mischievous lilt to her tone. 

"You should be a Queen that makes others bow with respect and admiration, a beautiful and fearsome creature to behold, you are the most powerful woman in Lucis, you need to understand that."

"I don't feel like it, though. I feel like...like a piece of furniture."

She shook her head. Placing a hand on her shoulder, she pulled you into her for another hug, "Even so, they should be lucky to have you."

"Not as comforting as you might think..."

"I can only pep talk for so long, Kitten," she admitted, trying to coax any sort of smile out of you. Her hand came to your hair and she fixed a few fly aways. "Now, I don't mean to change the subject, but technically I am supposed to escort you to some shop in town today."

You jumped out of her hands and slapped your forehead, "I forgot about that..."

"So, you know what it's for then?"

"Yes, it's a dress fitting. For the Spring Festival..."

Aranea cringed, "Dress fitting?"

"I know, I know, but that's the excited life I live. I'm sorry."

Aranea laughed a little at your sudden snark. She had missed you, too. Even with the shift in topics, she could tell you were still mulling over your predicament. As she expected, you were going to bite your tongue and throw up a painfully submissive Princess. Aranea also knew you had a will of your own, she was just going to have to drag it out of you while she was here. The platinum blonde sighed, "Are you sure you don't want me to murder him? It's really simple, I promise. I just a straight razor, those black trash bags—"

"Aranea! You can't do it!" Your voice dropped to a whisper, eyes looking over her shoulder as you pulled her closer by her arm, "Don't talk about that kind of thing so loudly...someone might take it the wrong way."

She rolled her eyes, chuckling a bit because you looked so nervous and flustered about it, "Oh, come on, you can't possibly expect me to believe you don't want me to rough him up?"

"I don't—I just..." you sighed. "You realize the penalty for treason is expulsion or death depending on how serious the crime is...and threatening to dismember the heir to the throne—that's not exactly a minor infraction."

She waved her hand, "Oh, please, the Kingsglaive would have to catch me first, Kitten." She looked at the quasi serious face you were trying to put on, "Fine, no murder, no maiming, what can I do, then?"

"Nothing, don't worry about him..."

"How about a couple of fingers, huh?" You crossed your arms in response and she agreed, "You're right; those are kind of vital to foreplay then how—"

"Aranea! Oh my gods..." 

"What? I said I wouldn't!"

"Th-that's not it! You-you can't just say things like that!"

Steel grey eyes sparkled again, she seemed to have struck a nerve. A very curious one at that. "Oh? Did I say something wrong?"

"Y-yes! You can't hurt the Prince, Ar. You'll get banished or killed, and then...and then who am I supposed to talk to, huh?"

"He—wait, y-you're worried that you won't have anyone to talk to?"

You stared at her and wondered why she was so surprised. Was it not naturally to worry about your family? "O-of course..."

Aranea laughed into the palm of her hand, a dangerous upturn to the corners of her lips. She smirked as she said, "Worried about your cousin's wellbeing first, before the Prince's. My, my, Kitten, are you that angry?"

"Wh-what?! That's not what I meant! I'm worried for you! I don't want the Prince to—Aranea! You can't...ugh..." you tapped her cheeks, red as they were and threw your arms around yourself, embarrassed as your cousin laughed again. 

She sighed, "Oh, c'mon, I was only kidding. Besides you can't pout all day. The Princess has such important duties to fulfill today, no?"

You grimaced. _Ah, yes, that dress fitting..._

•••

"The nerve of that woman, who does she think she is?!" Aranea walked ahead of you, heated ever since you two had exited the car. You weren't sure where she was going, and you didn't think she had a clue either but, it reminded you so much of your younger days. You dismissed the ache in your chest—thinking about your youth only made the pain worse. Aranea turned to face you, furrowed brows and all, keeping her steady pace albeit backwards. You fumbled with your hands and Aranea sighed, "You should've said something, [Name]. She's lucky I didn't kill her!"

Really, it was lucky Aranea didn't murder the woman designing your dress after she repeated quipped about how she would need to make the dress more extravagant to make up for your plain looks, or how her employees were allowed to just whisper about you while you were out of the room. Honestly, you were surprised that your cousin managed to walk out without shoving a fist down someone's throat.

"It's really not that bad, Aranea. I'm fine. I'm used to it by now."

It had ended quite badly actually. One moment you were being pricked and poked and the next Aranea had you changing and dragging you out by your hand to the car. You hadn't been completely present for whatever tongue lashing she'd delivered, but from the looks on their faces you didn't think it was anything less than a savage verbal massacre. You'd caught the tail end of the threats and it wasn't too pretty.

She kept her stern gaze on you, "I don't understand you. I don't remember how in three months you've managed to forget who you are. You aren't pathetic, you aren't weak, but you keep acting like it."

"I'm not acting, Ar...I'm not Queen material. I don't belong here. I...I told you already."

She bit back any thing else that might lead into a full-blown argument again. Instead she sighed and slowed her step before turning to face forward again as you two turned a corner. She held a hand out in a questioning manner, "We have another problem, now, though. We have to get you your dress back from that awful woman, no?"

"You told her you were going to shove your lance down her throat, Ar. I think, out of respect, we should cut our losses."

She turned to look at you, crossing your arms and nibbling on your lip in thought. This would probably bit you in the ass later, but the bigger problem was finding an alternative. You could always wear one of your older spring outfits, but you were sure that wouldn't go over well in tabloid reporting. Nitpicked at every action, you doubted you could pull off a repeat outfit despite only having been in the limelight for a few months. Those reporters were relentless and their sharp eyes would not hesitate to berate your image should you choose wearing an older dress. 

"You're the Princess, there's got to be someone out there who would die to design something just for you," Aranea turned to walk ahead of you, facing your direction again. "Despite all the negativity, you're still thought to be some saving grace of Lucian people. They still believe you were the better choice rather than the traitorous Lady Lunafreya, or whatever they are spouting in the news."

"I know I should stick up for myself," you finally muttered. She looked at you, before stopping her train of thought and her feet. 

"Then why don't you?"

"I...I just...what is the use of it? I will be criticized no matter what I do."

She frowned again, crossed her arms, "The fire in you has gone out. Remember always keep your head up and on straight, okay?"

You nearly slouched at her words. Easier said than done. _Good posture, sweetie, no one will care for a sloucher._ Your etiquette teacher used to say when you'd been growing up. Gods, those were lessons you wished you didn't remember. (Not the information gained, but the actual experience itself.)

Aranea smirked, "That's it, you know what we need?"

_Not that smirk._

"An Aranea Approved, Pick-Me-Up!"

"No, no! Those are never a good idea, Ar! We always get in trouble, and I'm already in enough as it stands."

"Says who? We yelled at a bitchy dressmaker; she deserved it. No one insults the Crown Princess under my watch, Kitten." You still did not budge from your somewhat stern gaze upon her. She started walking backwards again, mischief in her eyes, "C'mon, Kitten, it'll be fun! I've never failed to make you laugh before."

"You broke your arm last time."

She shrugged and turned the corner, you sighed. She really was as much of a handful as she had always been. _Only for you_ ,she used to tease, _well, maybe for your Aunt and Uncle, too._

You heard her yell suddenly, and concern washed over you. 

_Two seconds_ , you thought. _She turned the corner for two seconds!_

Much to your surprise, you didn't see Aranea was in much of any trouble as you turned into the next corridor. She was, however, face to face with the hulking mass of man that was your ex-guard, Gladiolus Amicitia. Her silver hair whipped around as she heard you call out name. 

"Gladiolus?"

"Princess."

"You know this human road block?" Aranea pointed with her thumb.

"Yes, but you're not hurt, right?"

"As if, I ran into this wall and got startled. No big deal, Kitten. Nothing to worry about."

"Kitten?" Gladiolus questioningly said. 

You wrung your hands, "It's a long story."

"I would ask, but the more important question is why are you still here?"

"Huh?"

Aranea glared daggers, "Crown Princess can't be in the castle? New rules, or what?"

He brushed off her threatening tone, "No, I meant, why aren't you out in town. Unless, and I doubt he is, Ignis was wrong about the 'Royal Whereabouts'."

"Royal Whereabouts?"

He chuckled, "Long story."

You swallowed, there really wasn't any sense in lying. "I, uh, we sort of..."

Aranea interjected, "The designer chosen for the Princess was deemed unfit. She lacked any sort of professionalism and I can assure you, the Princess will not be doing anymore business with that woman."

Gladiolus read between the lines, surpassingly easy, "Ah, I see. I'm sorry to hear that, Your Highness."

"It's...well, actually it isn't all that fine. I'm dress-less, and I doubt Ignis Scientia would like to hear that."

Gladiolus mulled something over in his head. He seemed hesitant as his mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally sighed, saying, "I might...I might be able to help with that."

"How? Don't tell me you sew..." Aranea scoffed.

_"No, but my sister does."_

•••

Iris Amicitia was not at all how you would have pictured Gladiolus' little sister. You weren't sure what you expected, but it wasn't what came bursting forth into your room. Aranea was immediately up from her seat on the chaise situated in front of the fireplace. She had been reading but the sudden intrusion into your bedroom was enough to have her flying across the room. 

"Ah! Gladio, you can just put all my stuff over on...um, let's seeeee, yeah! That table right there!" A perky brunette pointed over to the bare vanity in front of a floor length mirror. You had been sitting across from your cousin picking at the fabric of the arm of the couch. Your eyes roamed over the petite girl who was now bossing around the older Amicitia who looked apologetic. He was carrying totes of things you were afraid to ask about and he promptly set them down by the vanity. 

Aranea, alert and standing in between you and the new arrivals, spoke suspicious, "Amicitia? What are you doing?" 

Gladiolus put a hand on his hip and the other on the back of his head, a shaky smile gracing his features, "I'm sorry, Princess, my little sister can be kind of...intrusive."

Aranea didn't let her guard down all the way, but relaxed her posture. A hand shoved him out of the way and the younger Amicitia stuck out her hand, a toothy smile on her face, "I'm Iris Amicitia! I'm so grateful for an opportunity like this, you really have no—"

"Iris!"

"Sorry!"

You stood up, fully intending to get a better view of the younger sibling. A smile graced your lips when you realized that she was probably no older than you and that maybe she would have the same kind attitude towards you like Gladiolus had. Her amber eyes landed on you the instant you came near and her waist bent at a 90 degree angle so quickly you weren't sure she was okay. Aranea snickered at the cracking of her joints and the small, "Ow..." that followed. Gladiolus looked away from the scene, clearly mortified it was playing out like it was. 

You just held out your hands and nervously provided, "Um, y-you don't have to bow!"

She slowly came back up, pink dusting her cheeks, "I'm sorry, Your Highness! I just—Gladiolus told me about the whole dress ordeal and I was just so happy that the Crown Princess would even think about asking me! I'm just an amateur and I'm not a big designer and—"

"Iris!"

"I'm sorry! I talk a lot when I'm nervous..."

"You talk a lot when you're not..." Gladiolus interjected and Iris shot him a glare. He turned, whistling a tune of nonchalance. Aranea snickered into her hand. 

You smiled at the scene. You hadn't smiled that genuinely since your time at the shooting range and it felt good to stretch those muscles again. 

Iris turned back, a bright smile plastered from ear to ear, and said, "I'm Iris Amicitia, by the way, Your Highness. Ah...I've said that already, huh?"

"Just [Name] is fine. This is Aranea Highwind, she is my—"

"Personal guard, pleasure. Just ignore me," Aranea said suddenly and you cleared your throat. 

"Yes, I'm really glad you could come so fast...I had a problem with my original designer...she, um...I didn't agree with some of her suggestions."

"Gladio told me all about it, [Name]. Don't worry, though, I think you're gonna be an awesome Queen. I mean, I don't know you well, but from what Gladio has told me, you're just as nice as Luna—"

_"Iris!"_

"I was just telling her what _you_ told me!" She turned her head away from you to narrow her eyes at Gladiolus. He shook his head in disbelief, more than likely wondering why he opened his mouth about Iris in the first place. The dark brunette hopped over to the totes and began prying the lid of the topmost bin. Through the opaque plastic you could make out colorful cloth and other miscellaneous items that of which you couldn't make out. 

You only hoped this would turn out much kinder than your time at the boutique. Iris pulled out, with a flourish, dress after dress, once neatly folded now being tossed onto the vanity table. She kept digging and prying out colorful pieces of cloth and humming to herself, all the while Gladiolus shook his head. 

He took a moment to fully turn to you with an apologetic and almost defeated look upon his face. You weren't sure what to make of the expression. He spoke with a firmer conviction than the emotion plastered onto his gruff features, "Iris doesn't mean any harm, Princess. If she does offend you, you have my permission to scold her."

You gave a nervous chuckle, rubbing your hands together, "Um...I'm sure that won't be an issue."

"Thank you, again," he said, softer. You looked and the amber in his eyes shone with genuine gratitude. "This...really does mean a lot to her."

Iris exclaimed suddenly, spinning back around with a dress in her hand and a pen between her teeth, she held up the fabric and then peeked above it. Her grin stretched from one ear to the other and she giggled out, "This one! This one will be perfect for you! You have to try it on!"

"Right now?" You asked, stunned. The gown was eye catching, simple but beautiful with the intricate embroidery extending from the waist down the skirts. 

Iris's golden gaze flickered to her older brother, "Right! Gladio! It's girls' time now! Get out! Get out! Get out!" She threw the gown over her arm before walking over to press her brother's much larger frame towards the door. "C'mon, out, out, out! Bye!" She kept pushing him.

Despite being able to overpower her in a flash, Gladiolus gave way to his younger sibling, feigning the disgruntled older brother. She got him out of the room before wriggling her fingers, cutting off his "Iris, remember our deal—!"

She turned back to you and you could see Aranea had flung into the chaise lounge. Her cooler indifference to her surroundings was not that she lacked the caution, but that she sensed no reason to have a blade at anyone's throats. This gave a you a small comfort. Iris scurried back and held the gown to you, "Yeah, yeah, this'll be perfect. You don't mind, do you, Lady [Name]?"

You shook your head, "Really, I really prefer if you dropped the whole Lady part. It's always been awkward...especially since I don't think we're that far apart in age."

She blinked, "Right. Sorry, I just—right. I'll try to be less formal, oh geez, I'm just a little nervous. This is my first time designing a dress for someone so important. Oh! But, I swear I'm not horrible! It's just I'm still starting out, but I'm not a bad designer...or at least, I don't think so—"

"I'm sure anything you come up with will be better than the designer before you. I, uh, I can probably guarantee it," you tried to be a little less ominously vague but it didn't work. "I'm sure everything will be fine." You told yourself more than Iris.

The younger Amicitia tilted her head to the side, "I didn't think I'd ever get to design the Crown Princess anything. Ah, but at least I can rub it in Noct's face later, yeah? Oh, that's right! He's almost as annoying as Gladio, y'know? Well, I'm sure you do, you guys are married! Oh, man, I'm an idiot!" She scrunched her eyes as if she was embarrassed for even forgetting. You tensed a little. 

Right.

These were Noctis's friends. 

You cleared your throat, "Um, yeah, Prince Noctis and I don't really...talk much."

Iris's eyes went wide, "Oh! I, um..."

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault."

Her cheery expression shifted into one a bit more thoughtful, "He's not a bad guy. He's a little upset. I swear if he doesn't come around sooner, I'll just whack him in the head and tell him not to be a dick!"

Her hand clapped over her mouth fast as lightning. Her amber eyes wide as saucers and then the apologies came spewing out through the cracks in her fingers and she pulled her palm away. You just laughed, "I mean...you're not wrong."

Her words stalled and her lips curled into a devilish smile as she let out a relieved chuckle, "He's so not like this all the time. Maybe acts a little cooler than he thinks, but I swear he's usually not this mean...Gladio told me he was being rude."

"Please, don't worry about it. Let's just focus on the dress, yeah?" You said with a smile. You really didn't want to think about Noctis. 

"Right. Dress fitting, duh. Not a therapist circle, Iris," she said to herself. "First, I'll need you to change into this, though."

•••

Iris had you try on a dress—a similar one in design, but one she had already designed before, something to give you an idea of what to expect. It was light and airy and the fabric danced in the air when you twirled, it cut off before your ankles and flared out at the hip. Chiffon overlaid white silk and a sapphire colored floral designs had been intricately stitched into the bodice and skirt. You would have been content on wearing this dress, but Iris was hell-bent on providing you something no one else had worn before. The neckline was modest without sacrificing how it complemented the wearer's figure. Aranea had even walked over to better examine the dress, helping make sure the clasp was secure in the back.

You asked, suddenly, "Did you design this by hand?"

"Y-yes...it was for my friend's sister's garden party last spring. I think I'll add an illusion neckline to yours, though..." Iris mumbled to herself before adding a few sketching lines to her notepad. 

"It's beautiful, really. I can't wait to see how mine will turn out," you smiled, spinning in front of the mirror, testing out a few poses. Something Iris hadn't expected you to do as she sat mouth a little agape and nervously tapping her pencil against her sketch pad. You stopped and apologized, embarrassed. 

She shook her head, "Sorry! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just didn't think you be this...um, _normal_. That was rude, I'm sorry. I meant—"

"It's fine, I get it."

She put her notepad on the vanity and her hands on her legs, taking a breath to explain, "I didn't mean it as an insult, it's just there's just so many rumors about you, that I thought you'd be waaaaay different. You know? They paint you out to be some perfect little Lucian noblewoman and you're just..."

"Average?"

"No, just normal. Like, you don't seem as high strung as everyone thinks you are going to be. I was a bit nervous, I'll admit, coming here. Gladio would sometimes talk about you when he would escort you around. He told me you didn't talk much. I just thought he meant you were a stone cold stoic, but now that I've met you, I will admit, I was wrong."

You rubbed your hands together, "So, that's a good thing, right?"

She laughed, "Of course! Why wouldn't it?"

You sighed and let your body relax, "I was nervous to meet you, too, to be honest. I thought I was going to have a repeat of what happened at the boutique today. A lot people hate me, I think..."

She quirked her mouth up, "Eh, I don't think people hate you. I think, maybe, they don't know you as well as Luna." 

"Yeah, well, it certainly doesn't seem that way."

Iris bounced up to her feet, approaching you, "Hey, now! As long as your friends know you're a good person, then you're a good person, yeah?" 

You looked at her eyes and found that they mirrrored her older brother's own hazel ones. She smiled widely and went for your hands, "I'll be one of your friends, okay?"

"Y-yeah, okay," you agreed. "I'd like that very much."

"Ah, I'll tell you any story you wanna hear about Noctis, any embarrassing ones I know are all fair game!"

You relaxed again and laughed. "I'll be sure to ask one of these days."

Aranea jokingly added, "Let's braid each other hair now!"

"Don't tempt me," Iris said, smiling despite your cousin's unending supply of snark. Your laughter was cut short by the door opening.

All three of your eyes suddenly snapped to the direction of the door. The only one more prepared to attack, rather than question the noise, is your cousin of course. It doesn't take long for you all to realize it's nothing more than a couple of rowdy faces you've seen before. In fact, the sound of his voice brought a smile onto your lips, and your heart raced faster in your chest as a mess of blonde came bounding through the door, laughing loudly. He seemed to be taunting someone out of view and it didn't take long to figure out who your newest guests were.

Gladiolus rolled his eyes, irritated at the sound of Prompto's incoherent and hyper speed train of thought. Aranea was quick to her words, however, and waved her hand, "Can we help you boys with anything?"

Prompto gave a little jump at her sudden abrasiveness and Aranea doesn't let up on her wary glare. Iris gave her older brother a suspicious glance, "Yeah, what d'you want?"

Gladio, unlike Prompto, was not so easily affected by a simple look, scoffed, "We made a deal, remember?"

Iris mulled her brother's words over in her mind trying to piece together what he was talking about and then she cringed. Turning to your direction, she bowed with her hands above her head, "I'm so sorry, Princess! I totally spaced out! I have to leave before I can start on your gown!" 

She snapped back up and told Gladiolus to give her a hand with things as she scampered about the room. She continued explaining all the while, "I, sort of have exams this week. Heh, actually like a bunch of them..."

Gladiolus stopped by you, carrying a few totes, rolling his eyes, "Sorry, Princess, someone's gotta be the responsible sibling."

"Hey! I'm responsible!" Iris shouted from behind a mound of sample cloth she'd asked you about. 

"Prompto, help out," Gladio commanded the blonde still under the scrutiny of your cousin's watchful eyes. (You really did fear the day when your husband and her crossed paths.)

"Coming!" The gunner was quick to use that as an excuse to leave the menacing aura that Aranea was exuding near the doorway. His power walk could shame even the most athletic of suburban housewives as he hightailed over to the vanity where Iris and Gladio were packing up. 

His eyes landed on you, and he looked as if all the breath had been punched out of his lungs, "Whoa..."

The room's attention fell to you now, as the commotion of the bedroom antics slowed to admire you. You felt like you were on a stage, and a nervousness befell you as red painted your cheeks. Iris beamed, "I know, right? Almost brings a tear to your eye how scary good I am."

Gladiolus snorted at that, earning a rightful smack from his little sister. 

Prompto put his hand behind his head and lamented, "Ah, it's so unfair Noct gets all the cute girls..."

Gladiolus kicks Prompto with his foot, "Be respectful."

Prompto winces as he rubs the afflicted area, "Noct's not dead, besides I'm just making an observation!"

"I was talking about the Princess."

"Right...sorry, Your Higness, I didn't mean to be rude," he said with a sincere look in his eyes. You couldn't exactly turn that face away anyways. You assured him it was fine. 

Prompto added with a wide grin, "I'm probably just a little jealous of Noct." He laughed it off and helped with the boxes before you could comment on it. 

A gruff voice responded, "Your shirt's on backwards, I think it's safe to say you're not ready to marry anyone."

"Ah! No! Really?! This is embarrassing..." He rushed towards the vanity to check in the mirror, only to his own horror that Gladiolus was right.

"Quit messing around."

Gladiolus seemed to scold him quietly as he trudged over, and Aranea came to your side. You stepped in to try to help, but Iris nearly tackled you, saying, "We got this, don't worry, Princess!"

You felt useless as they packed away everything and with arms full of totes again, Gladiolus bid his goodbye. Iris lingered a little to give you a tight hug, a welcome gesture. You almost felt sad letting go, as she said with a cheery grin, "I'll be back before the party just for the last fitting okay! I'll promise to keep you updated on the dress!" 

"What about this one?"

She looked you over, "Keep it, my gift to you, okay? Next one will be even better!"

She followed her brother out the door after giving one last wave goodbye. Prompto was the last one to leave, carrying a smaller tote and as he turned to say goodbye, his expression felt solemn, "I...I know Noctis'll come around. He's not himself lately...just...I hope you both get to be happy."

"Thank you, Prompto," you supplied. He nodded and said goodbye to both you and your cousin as he left with his head hung in contemplation. The room was quieter now.

"Better watch out, cousin, I think Blondie's got a crush on you," Aranea chuckled. 

"Where was he when I was single, y'know?" You tried to joke. Aranea laughed again. 

"See? That's the cousin I remember. Now, I almost feel like I've cheated you out of an experience...maybe if I had let boys talk to you..."

"Would that have changed anything?"

"Maybe not, but maybe you wouldn't look so rigid every time someone mentions Prince Noctis's name."

It was almost like you were conditioned to tense up at the mention of him. You couldn't help it. You dreaded him, the mere mention and your body remembered that you were a burden to Noctis. 

Aranea followed your eyes as they hit the ground, a frown replacing any instance of a smile. She furrowed her brow, "He's really did a number on you, huh? Listen, you can tell me, he didn't... _hurt_ you, physically, I mean. He didn't..."

Your gaze snapped to hers and you shook your head, "N-no, Aranea, it's nothing like that—he hasn't—no! It's...not that! He...hasn't touched me. At all, actually."

_Record scratch._

"What are you saying? You two haven't...sealed the deal?"

Your lack of response was enough of one.

"Hmmm...the picture is coming into focus now..."

You scoffed, " _Sex_ is not the issue! The _unwanted, loveless, arranged marriage_ is!" 

Aranea shrugged, "Well, I can bet that if you were having really great hate sex, you two could make it through this relationship. I mean, you take your little victories where you can, right? Reap the benefits and whatnot."

Your face had turned every shade of crimson by now. You couldn't even—Sex! Ha! With the Prince of Lucis—ha! He hated you! That was impossible! Ha! Unbelievable! Aranea didn't grasp the concept of _He despises me and doesn't even look at me like anything but an obstacle in his way of Lady Lunafreya!_ You managed out a flustered response, "I-I am not like that!"

"Right, you're a _good girl_. Oh, c'mon, you haven't even thought about it? Think of it like a silver lining!" Aranea laughed at how cute you looked flustered. 

You started ushering her out the door, "That's it, I'm going to bed!"

Aranea laughed as you kicked her out, begrudgingly saying goodnight. She winked at you before disappearing down the hallway, leaving you flustered and warm in the cheeks. Of course you'd thought about Noctis. You were a normal girl, anybody would have done the same, he was far from unattractive and when you'd first crossed his path he had charmed you into a trance. 

Circumstances changed though. From blushing admirer to unwanted wife, who would've guessed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FEAR NOT, PART II IS NOT GOING TO TAKE 4 MONTHS TO FINISH. 
> 
>  
> 
> ~~And if it does, I give you full permission to yell at me.~~
> 
>  
> 
> P.s. Noctis-centric chapter is in the works because there has been a severe lack of our sleepy boy.


	7. a change in routine--part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you versus the dress (ft. Noctis's hands)
> 
> (what was originally supposed to be part of the previous chapter.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long! ~~I was simply unable to write for Noctis as I was so angry about FFXV. My rage only fueled by [insert major spoiler here], so pardon my absence.~~
> 
> I can't believe the response I've gotten about this story. Really, it's absolutely insane. I don't think this is my best work and yet you guys keep showering me in compliments I don't deserve. x.x
> 
>  
> 
> _I am truly unworthy you all are so nice !!!_
> 
>  
> 
> (as always thanks to my beta reader, **tea-solves-everything** you're awesome even if I suck at sending you things ;^; )  
>  and thanks to all you readers and reviewers and kudos...ers?
> 
>  
> 
> **also, PLEASE MIND THE RATING THIS CHAPTER.**

The door shut and suddenly the room was quiet. 

You were alone again. 

It was not long before your smile fell from your lips following the realization that you stood solitary in your large bedroom. The walls seemed so far away from you; you may as well have been standing in the grand ballroom. Iris insisted you keep the dress and it could not have been a better gift from the amateur designer. You made a mental note to give her something in return for her generosity and willingness to work on such short notice. 

Gladiolus had mentioned she had exams and you figured she must have been swamped despite agreeing to design you a dress. That made you frown. You hoped this would not affect her academics in a negative light and made another mental note to ask her if there was anyway you could help the next time you saw her. (You silently hoped it would be soon; Etro knows you could use some friends.)

You glanced at the clock on the wall. Dinner had passed by a while ago and you supposed you were fine without having anything to eat. You had eaten lunch with Aranea before and recently you hadn't much desire to chow down anyways. Your hands rested on your hips and you stared about your room and the vibrancy had already left its walls; it was dreary again. All that life and laughter had gone now and you were left to your own devices once again. 

_But this time when I wake up, Aranea will still be there,_ you thought to yourself. It left you with a lighter feeling in your gut knowing you'd have your cousin there beside you in the when the dawn arrived.

A yawn overcame you, your body became aware that it was tired from the sudden and unexpected change of pace in your daily routine. A shower sounded heavenly and you reached behind you to undo the zipper in the back. The small metal dangled precisely in the middle of you back—right where your fingers couldn't reach. You tried the over hand approach and then the double-handed, crouched position before your shoulder began to cramp and you quickly retracted out of the contortion. 

"Oh, please don't do this to me..." you mumbled to yourself as you attempted to pull the fabric down in hope the zipper would come into reach. "I feel you...c'mon!" You started pacing around as if it would help with you cause. It would be your luck that you'd get stuck in a predicament in which you'd need another person after everyone had left. The universe really was gunning to get you.  
It wasn't even as if you couldn't feel the stupid thing, either! The metal zipper was small and tucked into a seam and you remembered Aranea clasping something in the back and who knows where _that_ was located. 

"I should've asked her how to operate this death trap, for Etro's sake...C'mon..." you grumbled to yourself, your hair falling more and more out of place as you hopped around and stomped your feet in frustration. You didn't want to rip the dress. Iris had worked so hard on it, that much was obvious, but she also made it impossible (at least for you right now) to get out of. You slapped your hands to you hips and groaned out, "Why me? Why? What did I do to deserve this?"

It was futile. Aranea would have to come back in, you would have to rip the dress, or you would sleep in the damned thing. You were trapped in this dress and there was nothing you could do about it! _All because you couldn't stand up for yourself at a dress shop, and Aranea yelling at the designer and Iris stepping in for your convenience, and—_

"Oh, stop it! Stop it!" You slapped your hands to your cheeks and shook your head hoping to shake the impending pity party away. "Breathe, you're smart. We can figure this out!" You said to yourself a little shaky. You went over the mirror on the vanity and lifted your arms, it was strapless, you could slip down out of it. It was just a bit snug up top, but once you got your shoulders through, it would be smooth sailing. 

You nodded in determination. You just needed to breathe and calm down. Aranea's voice echoed in your head like a record on repeat, _"Keep your head up and on straight, okay?"_

You lifted used your hands to pull the dress up and it took a bit of shifting before you could get it up to your chin. The dress's corset was tighter around your shoulders and it was painful as your shoulder blades crushed closer together as your arms stuck out awkwardly up over your head, but you were getting somewhere at least. 

A fear of ripping the dress began to overcome you as the fabric felt far too tight around your body as your vision became obscured by the fabric. (Now, you were flying blindly through this mess. Great. Because you were doing so well _with_ vision.) You shifted again and you took in a breath before pulling up the dress once again so that your shoulders could slip down out of the tight corset. There had been a moment you'd wriggled a little too aggressively and almost lost your balance before you quickly regained your footing, berating your own lack of caution. 

Then, tragedy.

 _"Shit..."_ The curse slipped out. You didn't usually curse, especially not around anyone other than your cousin who had been the best rebellious role model for you in your youth. Truly, she had taught you ever word in the foul language dictionary because she thought it was just hilarious how you sounded. An image of an already feisty, thirteen year-old Aranea teaching you how to say bad words underneath blanket forts you two had made in her room ran through your mind. It was the only thing you could say because you were stuck. Stuck in an even worse position. Hands above your head, dress hiked all the up to you mid thigh and vision completely cut-off, and you couldn't even figure out where you were without fear of tripping and ripping Iris' hard work.

Oh, fate really did have it in for you.

_And she is a cruel bitch._

The door opened. 

Sweat gathered on your brow and you could only imagine that Aranea had walked back in, forgetting something meaningless and seeing your sad state of affair. You whimpered out a defeated, "Aranea, help me..."

If the world had stopped right there and then, and the ground cracked open, swallowing you into its depths as the cold embrace of death encased you, you would not have shed a single tear. No, you would have gladly jumped out of the window, dodge rolling into traffic and running off if it meant that you didn't have to be standing in that bedroom. Fate was a heartless wench. And you hated her.

"Who?" 

You gulped, a deathly chill running down your spine, "P-prince Noctis?"

"What are you doing?" Noctis asked, probably still standing near the door as you heard it shut promptly afterwards. 

You crossed your legs, shifting around as to give yourself some sort of decency and cover to your lower body. You laughed nervously as you moved about towards, what you hoped was, the direction of the bathroom. A table corner banged into your kneecap and you let out a loud, "Ow!"

He scoffed, "You know what? I don't want to know."

You could hear him move around the room, probably getting ready to fall into the bed that you both end up in every night. (He'd probably turn the light off, too, knowing your own luck.) Banging your legs and stubbing your toes on every piece of furniture, you felt his eyes on you the entire time. Etro only knows how badly he was judging you right now. 

Lady Lunafreya probably never looked this stupid in her entire life. You fumbled about praying to the Gods that you would make it without falling headfirst into a glass table or the hard flooring. 

"Sorry!" You suddenly apologized as you were bumped into a plant, attempting to prevent it from falling. You spun around on your feet and tried to find something familiar with your toes and you just wanted to disappear into the void. Just let one of the Gods smite you now. You hit the corner of the chaise lounge and tumbled over the side of it, flailing all the way over as your ` flung into the air and your scream of surprise was deafening in your corseted confinement. 

You rolled around and fell onto the ground before scooting on the floor, trying to get away like an inchworm, towards a corner so that you could die of embarrassment. 

"Of all the things...of all the people...why me? Why me?" You whispered, completely horrified, to yourself as you struggled to get up to your feet, not without knocking something that sounded like books onto the ground and probably that stupid fern, too. It took a minute before you found yourself on your knees so that you could shuffle around to the nearest exit. 

However, you did not get very far before a pair of warm hands hoisted you up from just under your arms. (Oh, right! Noctis had just seen you tear the entire room apart like an angry blind animal! How splendid!) He steadied you as your feet found purchase with the floor, their grip on you pressing into a sensitive spot ushering a mixture of a laugh, a snort, and a strange yelping noise. 

His hands retracted and you could have just collapsed back onto the ground, hoping that a blow to the back of your head would kill you or knock you unconscious. You quickly and nervously apologized, "I-I—sorry! I'm...ticklish there..."

He cleared his throat, "Um, it's...fine."

_Well, this could have gone smoother._

In an attempt to escape towards the bathroom, probably to sit on the floor and cry because you had made an absolute fool out of yourself. Or maybe, if you were somehow able to get the bath going you could just dive right in and drown yourself. Anything to get away from the utterly embarrassing situation you were in. With a shaky little side step, you slowly walked away, hoping he had decided to ignore you and continue on with his own night routine. 

"Ow!" You yelped as you banged into the wall. You sighed. There was no way you were going to find this stupid bathroom without assistance. Swallowing hard, you sighed again, "Would...would you mind helping me?" 

"Are you sure? You seem pretty capable so far." 

You were silent. Was he...? _Was he telling a joke?_

"Er, nevermind," he added. "Is there a zipper somewhere?"

You snapped back, "Yeah, it's—" you turned around and used your hand to feel around before finding the top of the dress where the zipper was hiding. "—somewhere over here—"

"Here?" He asked as his hand grabbed the fabric and pulled down a little making you stumble a little backwards. His hand had brushed against your own and you flinched away as if it had been burned. He fiddled for a moment before finally you heard the sound of the zipper sliding down through the teeth—

"Ow! That's my hair! It's stuck in my hair!" You hissed and he pulled a the zipper up, further entrapping more of your hair. You shifted around and he pulled the fabric down so he could see, but it only made the pain worse. 

"Quit moving," he tried to pull the dress back down on your body so that it was at a manageable height but you hissed out, "Ow! Stop, that hurts!"

He mumbled, "I wonder if I cut it..."

"No!" You lurched forward and felt your hair pulling at your scalp. 

He grabbed the dress again and said, "I'm kidding. Just stay still." 

You felt as his hands straightened and readjusted the fabric and every time he pulled down, you bit your lip to stop any curses from flying past your lips. That was the last thing Noctis needed to know. Cursing would make you look even more like an idiot. He sighed, "Can you get down so I can see what I'm doing?"

Without any words, you kneeled and his hand snaked past the top of your head and down through the back so that he could find where your hair was trapped in the zipper. His sleeved arm slid past your own and if you reached out, you'd probably feel the rest of him standing so very closely above you. It was so unfair. His fingers were long and sometimes brushed through your hair and to the scalp. The small meaningless action set your senses on edge.

He moved your hair out of the way and his fingertips grazed the junction where your neck met your shoulders. You shivered a little and he went to forcing the zipper down as he tried to hold the hair out of the way. You just couldn't help but lean in towards his warmth. You just wanted to be near it and you could smell the cologne on his shirt sleeve, and you could melt away in that moment. His hand in your hair, his scent around you, and on your knees, you couldn't think of a more heavenly way to expire.

"Hey, can you move your head forward so that the hair doesn't get stuck again?"

 _Well, he definitely knew how to kill a mood._ You sneered, _Not that this was going to go anywhere but in your head…_

"Sorry..."

You could feel his hand retreat as the zipper continued to fall down through the teeth, free you. The dress slid back down your torso and your hands gripped it close to your chest. You held the front up with one hand and shuffled around to get back onto your feet. He moved from behind you and you assumed he would get on with his own nightly routine, but instead he stuck out his hand to you. "Here."

You stared at the appendage as if it was a trap and he frowned, "Just take my hand."

Your hands go to grab his own, a small part of you thinks he is going to let you drop and humiliate you. You almost expected him to do something like that. On your knees, one hand pressed to your chest, and the other extended towards Noctis’s, you blushed. If someone had told you, you were going to end up in this situation three months ago, you would have laughed yourself silly.

“Iris! I told you to make sure everything was packed!” Gladiolus’s lecture grew louder and louder and suddenly the bedroom door was flung open, spilling out three of Noctis’s (and you could probably say they were your friends, too, now) back into view. Iris had her cheeks puffed out, obviously irritated that she was being lectured. Prompto had his hands behind his head, a grin on his face as he listened to Big Bro Gladio scoldings. Iris flung her hands up, “I already said I was sorry! Geez, lay off already!” Clearly, they hadn’t noticed you yet…

It was also Iris who had turned to fully apologize for her sudden intrusion and her face flushed red, before a sly grin spread on her features from ear to ear. 

The two men turned in unison. Prompto rushed over to Iris, nearly knocking over the vanity bench, throwing out his hand over her eyes, exclaiming, “Iris, don’t look! You’re too young!”

She ducked out and Prompto screamed. Gladiolus crossed his arms, delivering Noctis a wink, “Nice one, Noct.”

Noctis looked in horror (and realization) down to his current state of dress (his shirt untucked, his belt gone...) and then to the disheveled girl at his feet...on her knees...hair a mess...face flushed...dress practically falling off of her—

“I swear it-it is not what it looks like! I-I...her dress!” Noctis blubbered out as he slunk away far, far, away from you. He put his hands up in defense, and continued to deny everything that Gladiolus was implying with his eyes. He tilted his head forward, unconvinced and completely tickled by how hilariously serendipitous his little sister’s negligence was. 

Iris’s less serious, and completely amused, “Damn! I. Am. _Good!_

Noctis crossed his arms, “There is no way I’d ever...with her! No!”

Your face drained from any blood and you felt like running away, but gods forbid you trip and land face first in front of everyone. That would the cherry on top of the shitty sundae that was shaping up to be your life, right about now. Of course Noctis wouldn’t want to be mistaken for being with you, you were the other woman. He loved Lunafreya and you were most definitely not the Lady Fleuret. 

It still stung hearing him say it, though. It made it real. It brought reality crashing back into you. That you could play dress up, blush at the feeling of him being anything close to civil towards you, but in the end, you were still the wrong girl.

And it...hurt.

Sensing the shift of atmosphere, Gladiolus grabbed Prompto and Iris by their arms and began to drag them out of the room, proclaiming, “Out, out! Everybody out! Leave these two alone!”

When the door shut again, you couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe really. Forget about the fact that you had embarrassed yourself in front of Noctis; you had embarrassed yourself in front of your newfound friends! You might as well just take a bath with a toaster, now. And they’d all seen him blatantly reject you, as if it wasn’t bad enough…

Not knowing what to do next, you slowly lowered yourself back down to the cool floor, muttering a very inaudible, “Please, Etro, take me away...” You brought your hands to cover your face. You could hear the slow, cautious footfalls of the Prince coming closer to you, and you wished he would just ignore you again. At least until your fragile composure returned and you could pretend you weren’t fazed by everything that was happening to you. (At least, it wasn’t Aranea that had come back, though…)

An awkward, “Hey, you, uh, I’ll explain to them that um...that it was nothing…”

You mumbled a response. 

“What?”

Moving your palms for a better angle, your voice cracked, “Can you just leave me alone now?”

“Did… _are you really upset about it?_ ”

You slowly, _slowly_ moved your fingers to peek through them, you trailed your gaze up his pants, almost searing a trail into the fabric, tears rolled to the side with gravity.. You could feel your jaw tighten, and it took everything in you not to start screaming. Wouldn’t anyone be upset in your position? Wouldn’t anyone want to sink into the empty void to escape shame and embarrassment? Was it so strange that you were crying about being completely vulnerable in front of people you were still getting to know? Your voice was shaky at best, “Yes, I am…”

Noctis looked taken back, unsure of where he was stepping now. He tried again, “It harms my reputation more than yours.”

“Who's going to know anyways?” You muttered with a bitter taste on your tongue. 

Noctis grumbled, frustrated, “ _You're impossible._ ”

_Ha! Impossible?!_

_“Just please leave me alone.”_

“You can’t lie on the ground all night.”

You mumbled into your hands, “Watch me.”

He shook his head, scoffed and stared at your unmoving body for a few more seconds. He slapped his hands to his side before he eventually conceded in saying, “Suit yourself…”

The door slammed shut and you pushed yourself off the cold ground, frowning. A pretty mess, you sat before gathering your skirts—it wouldn't be fair to Iris if you dirtied her hard work—and with as much divinity as you could, you wouldn't back down to that stupid Noctis and his perfect hair. If he wanted impossible, then you'd show him impossible.

•

Noctis threw himself into one of the empty guest bedroom a corridor over. The nerve of that spoiled little aristocrat…

_What was she playing at?_

There was no logic in your thinking! You played many faces—the naive girl, the dutiful self-sacrificer, the whimpering mess, the stubborn child. Irritation arose where sympathy should have at the thought of your presence where Luna’s should have been. A month had gone by and you'd seemingly charmed everyone into pitying you as you played your many faces around them. Prompto had damned near nagged his ear off as he vouched for you with a sureness that only further fueled Noctis’s annoyance. He had seen you wander about aimlessly like you were some hollow shell of a person, barely an interesting notion about you. The perfection the Royal Council liked to preach in the media was far fetched enough to make his stomach churn. 

He was quick to fling himself into the plush mattress, toeing off his shoes to retire unceremoniously into the darkened room. When he had walked in on you—gods know what you were doing— _stumbling and cursing_ , he couldn't help but be reassured that you were a pale comparison to _his Luna._ You were graceless and the moment he figured a way to restore faith in Tenebrae and Luna, he'd jump on the chance to annul your marriage. The sooner _that_ happened the better. 

He missed Luna ardently. The way her skin felt flushed against his and although their encounters had been mostly innocent, he longed for the day when she would give herself entirely to him. It was hard to be around her for long, hard to look at her for long—she was the sun despite her namesake. Noctis had never really considered himself very forward in the likes of flirtation, but something about Luna made him feel like he could be anything. _She was better than any replacement._

 _You_ weren't Luna. _You_ were just a wealthy nobleman’s daughter. 

You weren't Lunafreya.

You didn't make his heart beat fast and slow at the same time. You didn't consume his every waking thought—he worried about Luna’s safety. _Was she safe? Was she thinking of him as he did her? Did she know he still longed for her kiss miles away?_ Surely. She had to. _She had to…_

It was driving him _mad._

Ignis had told him it was unwise to seek the Princess out in Altissia—it was unsafe. He didn't get that that only further urged Noctis’s desire to see her once again. He had to see that she was safe. Ignis would try to distract him—he should focus on his duties in Lucis. How could he? Noctis had been forced into an marriage he could care less for, Niflheim had invaded Tenebrae and Luna was branded something of a traitor by proxy. He would clear her name. If winning this war meant that, then he would. For her, he would kill Gods.

He could practically hear Ignis’s voice in his head: _“That would hardly be necessary, Noct, nor as romantic as you would believe theocide to be.”_

The thought, albeit a self-jest eased his nerves. Noctis had a nasty habit of working himself into an anxious mess until he could do nothing but _worry and brood, worry and brood, worry and brood._

His forearm came to rest upon his forehead, his eyes closing in attempt to further quell his agitation. He missed Luna’s therapeutic touch. Magic weaving through her fingers as they used trace lazy shapes into his skin. Many nights just holding one another in silent reprieve, relishing in each other’s company. Things had seemed simpler then. Noctis would see Lunafreya again regardless of being married, he would break his vow to be with her once more. 

What he would give to taste her lips, feel her flesh under his—velvet under her calloused palms—the mere thought bringing a heat to rise in his belly. Noctis respected Luna’s wishes to wait, and even if he would push and test the boundaries of how far they could go, if she didn't like something, he ceased to do it. _That didn't mean his imagination listened._ He figured he should have felt some shame in thinking of such compromising positions concerning the Oracle, but he was merely human—Chosen One or not, he fell under the lecherous desire that his fantasies conjured up for him. He supposed there should be a certain shame in feeling himself grow at the thought the Oracle’s lips wrapped around his cock, yet his imagination held little. 

Noctis swallowed hard. If he concentrated enough, he could feel the pressure of her fingers on his thighs and the picture of her between his legs. In reality, it was his own hand that had wandered between the covers and snaked beneath the waistband of his own pants, in an effort to relieve the unbelieveable tension that had grown within himself. 

He dragged his hand along his length, imagining it to be his beloved, and the thought of her tongue running down it edged him further to release. His imaginary Luna crawled silently over his body, sliding every inch of her body in a delicious friction that Noctis could only dream of feeling one day. He could feel the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead as he worked himself closer to release. Her hands and fingernails taking gently over his chest and her fold rubbed against the underside of his cock, edging them both into ecstasy. He imagined how her lips would part in pleasure and how she would meet his own. 

He wanted to know. 

The fantasy-Luna came up for air, her eyes meeting his as her hips ground into his own. She would be graceful even in a lusty haze; she would be more graceful than his _wife_. 

Her image faltered in his mind, a poisonous thought snaking in between the pleasurable. _Your name._ For a flash her hair was yours, her eyes were yours, her flesh was yours like a television that had lost signal. He furrowed his brows, concentrating harder and harder to ignore your intrusiveness in his own fantasy. Her hands raked across his chest again and she went for his lips, but when she came up, you were there. Your face staring at him, lips parted in her ecstasy, as your hips ground into him. 

Noctis felt the inklings of frustration building within himself as he could practically hear _your_ sharp gasp, _your_ moans and he could feel himself edging closer despite his own disgust at the thought of you replacing his beloved Lunafreya. He fought your image, focusing so hard that he could feel the sweat rolling down his hairline, bangs sticking to his forehead. Your eyes would be hers for brief flickers of a moment and he groaned in anger. _You ruined everything._

With a few final pumps of his hands, he could feel himself spilling into his briefs and over his fingers, he wiped them on his underwear as he panted, opening his eyes to the darkness of the guest room. No Luna greeted him to lay languidly at his side. As he caught his breath, he felt cold, sticky—angry again. Guilt bubbling up in his gut as the image of you above him, bare and moaning his name in _Luna’s_ voice burned into his mind. He grit his teeth. He needed a shower. A burning one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and thus we begin our downward spiral into Noctis hell. hand-in-hand. chapter-by-chapter. 
> 
> I **have** update faster, I know, I know.
> 
> as a note: Noct is supposed to seem rash, intense and indecisive; let's all be honest, he is.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up with how u feel about our sleepy emo prince. Bye. Also just rant about FFXV with me.  
> Do it...


End file.
